She tames the river like natural curves
Sharp creases in the bed of sand, dirt
with free passion, free passion with wild
Flowers. Tells me who cares, watch, I'll
Tame you too, freedom soul, writer of
Countless immemorial, I train a smile for
the event, a way to say Indeed, without
Saying, "Indeed". She laughs at me, some
Things wrong, music, more music, more
more more. I can never quell this appetite
For more, enslaven to beauty I do, always
As I am told, from one voice, to many, sold.
Christopher Baird 2012 ©
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