in a bed, self beds
self pulls
and tugs at listless sheets
while a fever
soft and lulling
coppers the space where all is green
the textured plain
where mischief ripens
teasing out the fur of angels
while smoothing every stocking-sheath
pulled over gnashing teeth
tonguing vacancy through velvet mesh
forming a face with absent tastes
recalling love that lust remembers
a green love frail and trembling
gorgeous.
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