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here, in these heavy, yellow-bellied clouds
swelled with the storm, pleased by the weight

unraveled & mouthy comes thunder
where spindle-weak fences pin down the hills

& the hills let them, & the winds scream praises, &
the barbed wires rename themselves please

small suns dot the gaps between lightning fingers
& the sky sobs yellow-green, like the stomach of a frog

here, under these dripping prayers, sweetgrass laid limp
over itself and dew-shining, i ride my bike to the end of the sidewalk

& that, where the rain peels itself up from the concrete
humid for the sunlight, greek iris in prosper

& that, where i stop propped on one foot
that is what love tastes like

  • Like 3

holla holla get dolla

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