is the sun enough for me?
uppity child— little Henri,
a cockadee, chases dovelettes
from the weeds. palest grey

sweetmallow breasts, ruffled
romancing on the pagar. desire
trembles in the precarity of daylight—
wooers, laughing, are tumbled upside-down.

Rainbow tidbits for Henri,
though neither of them is a hen. verily,
unto the sun is born a luminous,
bewilderingly beloved.

//

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