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May 2016
that tasted like popcorn
and dirt; warm, and then

The grass separates itself into individual blades
that glitter          and    dance
                                              under the sky
like a million knives

Friend, I want to grow roots with you.
                                                                ­  I want to make a home in you.

I am as raw as a newborn.
All that my body can handle
is the sweet juice of a peach

I never knew the sky could open as it has,
                                                       could fill me with cloud,
                             and the dust of what the first atoms
have left behind for us.

My body is a torch
to light       with the world of your palms.
Use dandelions
                          as matches.

I am stripped of all pretense, bones
free of caveat and nicety.
Now, it is time to live as an
earthworm does. Softly, naked:
on the cheek of the
Jesse Osborne
Written by
Jesse Osborne  Chicago
   marina, spysgrandson and cgembry
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