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Poetry

strand

strand of melting

gold of hair

on the cheek

in an escalator

of a man of tanned complexion

wavering in a gust of breath

between vision and the discountenanced

coquette of thirty seconds

liquid dance in stubbled desert

fragment of a kiss

perhaps

the rose of morning

burning away the bleary face at which I

unabashedly stare

a shaking shaking sunlit tree-branch

from which a bird has only just flown

the charming charming sinuous cadence

of a serpent sliding across the sands

scar of a moment

pretty brand

torn from what head

what beauty

what jungles and tangles of lock-thickets

rapunzelesque

what bewitched towers and jealous hours

and feats of derring-do

full to spilling of the light

much brighter

than the fluorescent ceiling

glittering

gleaming

dazzling

all unknown to the wretch that wears you

I would snatch you away

under the very nose

appalling a stranger

so brave the question

and the claustrophobic interrogation

lock you away in a trinket box of

five quick fancies in a chain about my neck

like a gentleman lover in a victorian novel

and hunt and hunt

for a mistress scalp

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