![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6JDOVmtx87Fe0_Hvm8UJ4VH2XQHQNZcqQWXugcmIJt8NsODDnylP9EEjO-4EG6CzCaetbdRpF9Zi6Grjz8czlGUWEE7I7w3Z8kz8WejgrlVqYm8H5G699Pnhs8VijKFAq_62X/s400/74414443.jpg)
whistling without charts
I air my tongue
airs and graces of
a leftfooter’s choir
all language metaphor
**
silver wakes
fence dotted like
manuscript with
white snails
small autumn regatta
**
biting into an apple
hanging off a tree
in weather
written juices on skin
bought and sold
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