Tuesday, November 29, 2011


The days are lying on the roadside lawn.
Melting stems, navels of the Earth,
Exposed day-light, yet out of sight.
These somber melons wasting away -
These spoils of melons
Leaking over you, nourishing tanned
Resident-glow fingers,
Dripping quickly
One by one,
Excusing the blind and their fingers.
You lick and they lick,
Stubbing toes on the earth
Walking blind.

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