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Two Dreams

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  • Two Dreams

    At night
    Your body is a hungry child
    Where the cold moon sleeps
    On your stomach flat
    As Oklahoma

    The dead have grown fur
    And carved out their bones for kayaks
    They carry the dried fruit of suns
    In kerchiefs of joy

    They know your eyes
    Are their compass home
    And your braided dark hair
    Their pennants of victory
    Last edited by Tanner; 05-09-2018, 08:42 AM.
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