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Like A Tree.From Jan 2009 (2011)

And like a tired,twisted tattooed tree. Mouling,rowling,quietly calling,no words running through its veins of grains,of rings of yearns and knots of ways to stretch out its limits to all new places. Though its feet are roots. Yet it sways,and plays. To hunt the suns dying rays.But yet it stays so firmly where it is and like a pleading,pleeing,seeding,pleasing in the ground to furrow the humus warm and moist fingers like a flamenco flamingo dancer slow moving hands fweenes to find the burried glands. A tree alone in a field can take on full its form and shape,To wear its autumn raphaelite cape,me thinks its trunk my lovers nape. Her wild unequaled Medusas head and pages and pages of the unsaid, Where all the lost lovers come slow and sloffull as those unfed, to hang there from her branches dead.



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