6 Nov 2008, 9:07am
Writing
by David


My Lover as a Carousel Horse

Dressing gown body stain
Spring rain
Rain spring

Flies come up to me and
They lick your juice

They say No
No carrots
No apples

There is not a lime or a green tablet as sweet

(As your hand: on my saddle)
My post
Maybe my post

You must have misremembered it
When you got off

When you touched me
You spilled your Coca-Cola
All over my tail

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