leave it black and back under below

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

There is nothing above which does not grasp ruefully at what is below.

Come again.
Keep your hands off of me
Of me
Of ME
I can drive something of me
Off of me
Keep your hands where I can see them
Street black yellow spine
Back before below between bent back that's fine

 

Walk the line off of me
I see
Come again, no
Come back and come again
Where from whether whence I came again
Again again again again again
And again come again
Of me and off of me
Baby bright streetlights keep my shadow where I can see my hands
My shadow is of me
Is off of me
And I am of what I am
Beneath below breathe back bend before you

 

Or below me
Of me
And again, of me
Off of me
Is what is below me also of me and off of me?
But what is a black pockmark of hard rock street anyway.


Submitted: September 15, 2015

© Copyright 2022 Kean Flynn. All rights reserved.

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