struck by cupid’s river

it’s as if side by stride we swim together… my skin bakes Spanish olives …as i pedal to keep up with you…. who giggle green mosses …
frog gardens ripple as your heart beats through them…all of us sing songs about seas over stones…
a poplar wades into you … it is as though she has waited for me as

she waves to me… under her shadows are amber honey pots and I wonder 

if bees can swim …and

is she their queen…what does it matter to polliwogs…birth is of the 

you are all things green and i am all 

things dry… you weave mysteries …like why… good and evil exist …and why my skin flakes …flakes like snow lost in desert niles… 
children stop skipping rocks on your hour glass waves when polliwogs turn 

to frogs and leather skinned lizards climb off hot spots… eyeball dry rocks to throw at you… pitch bitter boulders…dream of damned up seas… 
you whisper love songs about seas over stones …some say you are a watery grave… so perhaps i only wish upon sparkly current stars…perhaps 

i am as senseless as new polliwogs in

early spring …perhaps i am as silly as life on mars… but you will find 

me near my birthing place…hatched

in love my training class…struck

by cupids river even

 in deep rivers… i choose to 





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