January 22, 2012

Loosely  translated

But in no uncertain terms  she stated

But in her own tongue  in cheek

When I hesitated

Then she said, she had “inherited the meek”



An inch of ice on a streetlit windowed morning

We were caked in our come

It was what she wanted, and wet.

Her romantic zeal  wanted us in a  seal

Like a locked document.

She meant that love was all it could have meant.



I traded off half my gear to help me pay off the rest

For a necklace  not noticed on no neck

One with wondrous  burnt stones

Ones only buried deep

The market woman wanted only what

Would keep her from keeping it

A sum greater than a grow house utility tab


I should give what I could to show her


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