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Where
Broken carousel
Lights track canopy
Clouds, comfort gray
Without stars and
Gravity
To focus
Kudzu
Into highway
Whispers, everthen photos
And crumpled notes,
Ponytails
Never fall
On
Sometimes breasts
And arched backs
Under nevernow
Sweaters.
Our plans
Trip
On the lanterns
Of stucco black men
Who know we should
Have stayed
In
Kentucky.
There
Is where is
The semicircle
Of fifteen points
You tried to make.
This is
Where it ends:
Tate, Georgia is still made of marble;
Your eyes still make me come;
The shortest distance
Between your
Mouth and
Forever
Is me.
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