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11.

we recall the distances by their smells.
too late for magnolia, we’re on time
for rosemary, fir. eons of pollen.
we tolerate the ambiguity ‘tween
us: a heart orbit, those dudes who pine
their hour of use. ferment. first we cleanse.

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9.

heck, you can have yourself a bad feeling
about/with/through. into. call a drat door
what it is: a clue to the truth. this place
won’t do. these coins can’t family, a fix, fake
can customize the panes; can pay right for
the embryo – the bond costs its keeping.

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8.

swarm season finds me weary and urgent.
we split, nostalgic. scout bail in the eaves
or a busted brake light. less a danger
lest we lose even more. a container
not an address. not just time, my cloy thief
time crossed ought crossed gone. for want of merging.

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7. (meh)

my mind is all of us. here in my lux
jelly bath. here, tended, while I we us
more of us. even my doom, I birth her.
once, I soared a sort of chase. a blur
of need. once more, I’ll leave. we dance
discuss the neighborhood, hot bloom gossip.

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5.

here, then: the place where I happen to live
now or once did – or both. then fled on sense
then was again, located. phermonic
compassed, thunderbolt lineage. honest
lunaria annua lit request –
protect, protect. here at the sill, rerived.

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4.

comforting, to mistake a set of mind
strings named feelings rigged up
from the jump. rather a glamour informed
by the hum between. let a map perform
a find: lime flower, thyme. departure cusps
return. flush falsifies lust, a few times.

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3

a fav bloom; oh yeah, proximity.
varies the flavor of the stuff. what wafts
in a summer window, but nostalgia.
those roses are gone – no one can salvage
time. five thousand years old ceramic pots
hold linden honey for her death journey.

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2

we weren’t then we were. a teem. a feeling
turned go on no such luminiferous
ether. between us an us we’re inside.
call it forge, call it tend. winged and five eyed
we’re an I of ten thousand. and one. but
home’s not the ground; can’t be split certainly.

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1.

hence, hive. and how, how home is just the place
one takes for granted
. gather up your scatter
behind your knees, where grief flees disasters
your skull spurns. these thoughts swap spit. bear the traits
shaped by shape: time, mom, flowers. each a kin
each a weapon. there’s honey sure, noises.