It would be quiet as waters
& as warm
& sweet: remembered
sweet small breast
of a newfound girl
when I was young
in Brooklyn
undiscovered country
old man’s dream
& I would feel
my blood go
sluggish heart to sleep
By deep gradations
would I see that light
that fable
neurons desperate for blood
dumb animal screaming wet grey brain good night
& then there would be god
or nothing Nothing
would be
preferred.
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