In Bed With Ken Taylor

cloud in the shape of her bridal chamber
                                                                        for Phoebe

now we lay us down among murphy toothed leaves to trundle in fields we sampled by a syncope performed in public testing resistance choosing cushion for the falling apart years whether in minute flowers that suddenly show beyond the garden bluets the creamy-throated as schuyler said or in heroic verse epistle ramped in imitation that matches our sheets retiring to dream apart together resuming the pliable years the harvest the shared belief in other syllables telling time by blowing thistles over a fold of sonnets taking rooms how does the neap flood of memory hold confusions as gift exchange as the interior passage from honey an absence peeled back peering in calling for a spark as spheres layer above fir tree days after the great fire coming together in a hotbed flap of garments lost in cherishing the truckle of image rising thru image returning to first fragrances & trochees that taper off to muted shadows submitting to meet in sleep

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