I am content to crawl and braid
a web less tangible than a sentence
I will catch the Christ the Buddha
of the afternoon I will dine on God
with the instruments he gave me
a tooth of poison-love a kiss
I give to all my prey before
we sleep dreaming of swallowtails
precisely floppy above us yellowy
at the center of creation
waits the freedom to destroy it
but only if you forget
you must start it all again
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