day boys frolic in the rhododendron ring.
welcome to my scriptlessness i could not
speak. could we not complete
the symmetry of our garden experience
and maybe meet for an undressed rehearsal
i could not say to that sexy,
acne-scarred college student
despite how slow her eyelids.
they chased touch
in the circular maze. if i shoot her,
have i stolen her dreaming
in while gazing out
likeness? adrift
in a room of anonymity, the trying
sun slides along our glass as the lazy commas
couple above the moist black, as that
banana yellow boy out there, gleefully
sprints upon the still sleepy queen.
all those dad chased circles
among the stoically stern and heartily half
unleafed, arms
forever raised in surrender,
those are too sweet for tea.
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