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Hugging on a Black Pulsing Stone

Friend, twist me and pull
help pick the girlfruit, soursweet,
from a bad tree.

Imagine how it feels,
suddenly, I saw the free fall leaf as an elegant bomb
like half a mouth above rising water.

Think of me, the terror sun,
I can’t stop, I’ll go raving on
at the tender idea of two.

Maybe I am dumb as a cloudless sky,
coiled up, they can hardly tell I am alive,
hugging on a black pulsing stone.

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