Friday, 4 June 2010

Grainvoic


She wore rags of gardens & slang.
Down through the skylight stars tickled her toes.
She rolls his sleeve.
Up go the stars.
Through the sky, light.

She swarms the noonday moon.
She weaves bee stings into vests.
She drowned his sleeve in traffic song.
There went the bees.
Through the dark sky.

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