So very late - apologies.
The sleeping girl.
Your hands clasped around my arm leave marks
shaped and fleeting as a bird.
My lips pressed against your temple
form but cannot speak the word
Sadness. So like a gasp, as when
the kitchen knife slips, the bird within the scrub bursts free,
The word has pierced fidelity.
Caleb Cluff
Majorca, Vic. 21-22/06/06
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