is this it


in my sensitive throat


this dreamy elevation pounding up my stairs

buzzing like bees behind my ears

eagling awake my Ursa Major


this cliche

slapping my eloquence

lathing me into curling pieces


I asked her liquid scales

I begged her

I made water coloured love for her

I sang it

I did

I am

I will

être ou ne pas être



3 thoughts on “être”

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