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Mar 2014
sunlight
where
your
fatal chord
of music
strains
the mute
scepter
of night
bleeds
crimsonly
a thin note
of thigh
parting
light(


                      your
             mouth
                       which
                 ekil
                      is
                         a
               turned
                         upon
                   medallion
                 ofvery
          Spring.Agape

                     T
                     o
receive

                              the


thick

                  brutal


          ***


                     of poppies

      )
PK Wakefield
Written by
PK Wakefield
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