[a n t i j a m s e c t]

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03 April 2002

on my wrist and round my hips, in ellipse

. but not for you.

to be fair, when i leapt across the room & pulled you from the chair
i presumed some fantasy where you & i were undiscovered literary lovers but you were nothing like a poem:
if i removed the words you keep curled in your fist,
if i kissed yr wrists to loose your grip,
i won't know what you are - yr bizarre, absurd without the text that makes you strong,
that makes you sexed.

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