Sunday, March 17, 2013


when i put my clothes back on
they smell of smoke
 a hole chopped in the ice
the nesting box was full of feathers
we saw mergansers 
 brightly black and white in the cold river
and a dipper busy lower down
and i climbed  high 
upon the barren rocks
windblown hillside
scrambling up
my bones want you
my hard bones want your firm grip
you see my ribs when my body arches
for your love
maybe i am skinny
because i need to feel your hands 
pulling on my hipbones

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