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THE COMET OF HER WORDS
by Strider Marcus Jones

 
he sheds his matelessness
and shapeless
statelessness
undormed
to lie with her undressed
in woods earth warmed.
after drinking
and thinking
in the hollow trunk of an ancient tree
she reads
his tea
leaves-
and he hears
her nature in the pattern
of her years,
saying now we happen
and the comet of her words
weaves its sentences
in his,
lets go of bleakness
walking through wilderness
light footsteps in senses.
 
Posted by David Evans
 

David Evans, Feature Editor
 
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