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for dylan thomas, to be read aloud |
| the fire that burns you, burns me. the flame that licks your bone and kisses the tongues of youth consumes the father and the son. the bone that ashes went dry as the desert dust, spins the windy flesh and splits the nailed cross. our cock that crows gesthemane, under the fragile moon, chokes on notes of silences in sepulchres of wombs. drowned in a sea of litany, we hung him by a rosary, and wrung our voice of blasphemy on the cold cruel april ground. the fire that burns you, burns me, buries the pyrie flesh, and holds the son his father knew, with lazarus in his tomb. surfnrg 4/07 |