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Mar 2015
the altar clouds break:
cry holy, holy, holy,
swooning in the sunlight,
fingers threading grass,
sacrilegious lifting face to sun
instead of sky,
cry holy, holy, and think of horses,
manes aflame,
your lips were taught heavenly father
but cry apollo just the same.
3/22/15
Q
Written by
Q  New York
(New York)   
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