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Aug 27, 2007 23:06

Untitled

Leda: introduction
   i.

This is how she, below sky below you, parades on each

heat-crippled field  swallowed not in shadow, but in sun:

a swan, whose wings ascend, descend,  come away in

ledaean white, as when, in light and in not-light, she is

dancing, feet brush/ fail, brush/ fail hot asphalt-this

is how it goes, her motion, not rushed not hurried.

Zeus: watching
   ii.

Feather-rustler. Wind-rippler. Swan-transform-

er. You taste her from above.

You have no lips.

Leda and the Swan: yearning
   iii.

Here, on a field splotched by your wing-shadows, she's in un-moving.

A sound-

can it be: wings unbroken, soft, in the air?

In equal parts result as impulse she looks up at- is astounded.

(-at you in swan-form, all-white descending

from sky and from them, from all things

expected,

half-expected.

Part of your point to find, to damp on someone else your hunger
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