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PK Wakefield
Poems
Oct 2014
Untitled
the small sweating ***
roundly curled
into the moon
flits by flensed brilliance
'tween cloud and shook
quaver of churlish sea
igniting by wan dying force
all the forest to teeter
on apt flesh:
lusting to feel
the plush saber
of caving darkness .
Written by
PK Wakefield
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