150 Readings | 0 Ratings

to gallop finally into the Milky Way


with asking my hands paper the walls

half-truths resurrect and a half-life goes by

as apples soften to previous lives

of falling


does the fruit, it must,

contain the blossom?


haloed in leaving the backdoor describes the impossible

         love of a thousand horses

                                     galloping over the cracked floor of the sea, up to the stars


I can’t recall

a more exquisite consummation



like eating a blue apple


putting my hand in a brick








Posted 02/20/14
Appeared in Bateau
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