backcountry possessed
cannot in itself
destroy or complete
near shades of extortion
where sorrows meet.

Like terror is an arsenal 
for availing freedom.
Old weapons 
appropriate oceans of sky

waterwheel blooms
and swoons alongside.
While bloody-minded
makes mudholes 

loves unknowable
treasons rejolt 

turns and burns
a migratory bulls-eye

half wild.
Beauty scurrying 
from lonely mayhem 

lies delinquent 
starkly in wait

for doubles
snapping thunderbolts

to spasmodically 

As sorrow aches
to trust –

and anguish turns
to lust.


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