Sunday, July 26


in yr naïveté you taught me
how to most-important-of-all,
thinking me embargoed—
it’s I as went unloving thru
life until marvellous roo
is brightened over
former women, go modestly
& rip my from flower soil;

let not you as mild to declare
this small washer between our
gaping bodies as I
nothing more than been
before, when the cathedral
is scouse skin—let me
love you pert as the spire,
as magnificent dream as you.

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