A fleeing muff

To where the footprints from boys
end and become, that is the end,
that is the end of being hand-held
and the end of two bodies upon two bodies.
That is a three-day withdrawal
of upset blonde and the thinking
boys left of adulthood ahold of their bodies
end it well, and make a well in the soil
under my feet and the feet of traveling
yearning lost dressed in their finest
Sunday thrift. And they drink of it,
this southern water not served at dinner,
overheated and losing their patient appetites
for all else but what fruits from boys in summer.

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~ by Jeremy on July 15, 2009.

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