Oh Sweet Christ, my love,
I am scattered by your eyes
and by the long spell
they cast upon me,
upon my salt shore before
I dive deep, otter
shaped, for shells you need,
and live fish for food and scales
to adorn your masks.
My joy is scattered
like seed and it sprouts, then fruits
before the moon sets.
July 15, 2011 12:47 PM
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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.