Sit here for a while
under this bare tree
were among your
first words to me
what could they mean
what did they want
from me
who could tell
your whereabouts
from my trilling
shaking as when
the old man
pulls the sheet away
from the naked
fifteen year old body
to know desire before
wisdom was not
the plan of good gods
that’s for sure
arguing yet again
language bottoms
for the poem
not the other
way round.
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