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Apr 2014
i brush a tender moment, strewn beside
the traffic lights in your eyes. to collapse!
to hold this a second longer! you burn like
sodium, on the inverted face of my retina.
in the thick undercarriage of cloud cover
you pour into my skull, fine droplets, as

rain begins to fragment sidewalk lines.
open bold nothing, i. what can be lost?
against all views from above the city, a
glimmer belies some gain. if a single cut
of grass sprouts from the ground, no loss
will matter. we will orchestrate a forest.
you will see. we will arch our backs, join
gaze, scrape teeth and house the ocean.
the sky will collect where our skin meets.

so, i feign no casualty and slowly
dissolve at the thought of you.
we will lay in covers of fallen leaves
Tom McCone
Written by
Tom McCone  Wellington
(Wellington)   
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