My body looked great against the wool
sky. I pinned one to the string.

You seemed so sorry then, that guy
with the knife to you, soon you moved.

At night, I light the bees on you. Kiss their legs
to sleep. These switches,
, and my teeth
hurt, my feet are cold,

I pinched the sheets
that time dark
on your compound
looking for the bull
in the dark

I think it is January

Face of which child
in your hands, wet bentgrass
up to my boots. I knew I was
knowing you still

my mother called six times
in our sleep I saw a tiny truck
with a feather in it

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