this is how
it goes
shy stumble
into poppy
red we 
glissade past 
the one 
real thing
rings of light
open gray-
green sky 
a stain 
to our topspin
sets loose the torpor
we gently wrap
ourselves around
the occasion
testing our press
of sail this
rapport like
rapeseed oil 
slicked down 
a canvas of skin
and bark we say
"its not that bad"
"we�re sumptuous"
murmur or
murder hard
to say which
a sunbath of codeine 
or code swept back
like hair held fast
by a ruby
pin glinting in 
the wind a trace
opiate we 
could do

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