Will Ye Nill Ye

When hole
in chest turns green,
 
that breathless expansive
reeling feeling –

 

burns & woos
panic ensues.

 

Impassionate leanings
so weighted percussive –

 

held captive by methods
lugubrious & eruptive.

 

Swinging swinging
high on the hive

 

as sticky winds mill
saints alive –

 

Devious freedoms
all skip to the loops –

 

luminous bedbugs
traffickers, snoops ?

 

Beauty’s rogue economy
truth-or-dare –

 

riot gear revolutionaries
hands up! I swear!

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