Wednesday 29 August 2012

Rabbit, Rabbit


on ears and lips, tongues.

I’m way-word-weary today,
longing for real language
lilting a runabout between all the dots,
making my way through soft, soggy rain.

The undomesticated have no words.
The butterfly’s page is the wild, wild world
lilting a runabout between all the dots.
I walk, leaving footprints, a muddy trail.

Language, not words.

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