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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

This is What you Want

born to entertain this ignorance
i wrap close every alibi
like folds of your mistress
deep in confessional sweetness
i could part without lesson
distract solitary pains of your skull
with one thousands laughs emergent
these are the sudden gods
i have struck my own spectral bargains
for illusions sake we cannot remember
and flames flicker overhead as
we harmonica this trainline
see drawn in unfinished cartoons
if jesus sees his shadow

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