Sunday

the old gold

the old gold fought Daylight and over waves bundling the traps set by a black honey an glue not you Jill and not peas from the beanstalk or your y shaped thigh spreading the bed for him and her hair as yellow as corn.

This has been a repause to the contrary and the jacket wore sheet and fuddle sense of your surface cambering round the eye.


Each surface recording signs the love's warrant bearing its backer. Government love's no better. Each qualm is love's toy.