1693
5.261
18.ix.24
the way of the bug is
whimsy
probosc
on six legs
some spare
sleep brings
a kind of underthought
sky touch
pile
often floral
once up by leaf
take a line leastwise
imagine the gallop
guess on
it’s sometimes
nose to arse we must
naked
and the bones all out
it’s how we’ve come
from the other world
such trust!
the highest hill my home
we’re all efficient till
put out these few feelers
catch for colour
go bug eyed
hear this
there’s no unswoon
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