How quickly it escapes!
One minute, like
magic, a word
prickles skin,
frizzles neck
fuzz; a thought
charges the heart
to beat from its fleshy casket,
like love,
to startle the appled
throat. Yes,
in that minute,
i AM in love!
but then it fades into the day.
To speak becomes -- oh, i dunno.
Life is neutral
but for the poems
parted and particled
riding the wind like dust
waiting to tickle my nose.
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