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She Is Purple
Powerless in an iron lung
split purple in an evening sky
my lady leaks
The snow here is made of china
I’ve been here before
my lady fills the horizon
and the mountain hugging the river
went with the sun
Nothing left to walk on
only places to fall
where ice
breaks open to swallow
Just cats and nocturnal solicitors
can prowl with trembling paws
and hammer the neighborhood doors
as fists of freeze
And what am I but one of these
burrowed inside the night
disreputable cat
wet and wandering
amusing crying obviously wrong
A scoundrel
searching for a lamp
she is blotted
she is blinded spilling purple
to the earth
Copyright ©
Thomas Wells
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