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heart like a boy

heart like a boy,
i dream i fly
to the spire of island —
ride beating flanks
to land on green sable,
rub the birthstone —
    red stone smooth,
burnt ember —
         reach to you,
         i fear your eyes,
         my curiosity.
you hand me
a golden rope,
i do not know
how it could be…
boy piss-stream
beads on lilies
how we have bodies —
                      edge of
           point of splendor.
press the rope to me,
dry wheat straw,
hidden ember… dream
               of lips, your
               salt-dry fingers.

this is, like, 16 years old and i don't want to be back in the suicide tube i was in then, but i don't think i can write anything this good now. i write out when i'm squeezed by animals -- like i was at a zoo and i see these pretty animals but we're not the same species. but, sometimes, yes, someone human, and i fall... not very often... less than three fingers... one more than a peace-now V and someone and his small circle which doesn't include me.

9 Jan 17

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