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Explication
My water comes from the sky
And flows deep in subterranean dark
I fell through layers of stone with porous heart
To use me
To drink of me
You must come with bucket leashed to hand
Sit precipitously on my edge
And keep it dry always against a slip
When you hang over
To let your string down where you dig the ground
You cannot drink of me without sweat
I cleanse you of salt impurites
That you may know the clean
And taste the fresh
Flow of meanings on a dry brain
I go deep
To bring buriied things gushing out
My pearls from my wounded mouth
I am the last anomie
Mounting a flag on your dream
Copyright ©
David Smalling
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