Body is the essence of night,
a falling of flower
A few particles of the night,
on way to dawn.
The red of a stem is feet up
a face down
Quietly buried in the earth
of dust, leaf-swept
By woman of park garbage,
to greater dusk.
Body is the essence of night,
a falling of flower
A few particles of the night,
on way to dawn.
The red of a stem is feet up
a face down
Quietly buried in the earth
of dust, leaf-swept
By woman of park garbage,
to greater dusk.
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