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La muntanya que mai es mouque ens mira mirant-la des d’el balcóque fa ombra a tot el poble,marcant el dia, traçant els robles,que ..
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Hiding for deer.I hide in pages. I turn back to lookfor the stalking deer, chestnutfurs of flank alert toflaming arrows, I paceexpectantly at first, t..
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Countable hours
moving
over the foot of the
bed.
First: you lick my
toe-tips with your
snake-tongues, crawl
up inside
my sleep-sli..
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I sense a web
webbing
equally through
everything.
I do not pulse: I
only take
a pulse through - long, darkening
tunnels, of sinews,
of bloo..
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We have brought the
walk down
to the beach, you
have brought
a plastic bag, and
we slow in
the open, I follow
your eyes
searching hands
..
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I was just floating
around somewhere
in someone's back
garden when he came in
with his guitar and
his spectacular verve
and I made myself
wide ..
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It
was the second time we met, I met him
at
the airport following the first days' frenzied contact,
got
a drink while I waited, light with hun..
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Sometimes I take up
that old
deck of cards,
snapshots saved
from the discourse
of the day:
I remember the
saxophone
coming up to g..
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I am sticky in our
bed, towel on my head,
hot and clean from
the shower, I am
plaiting time,
peering inwards, humming
inwards, hoping
..
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Dancing, I am
reaching
To fit myself to it.
To match my movements
To its moments, this
time to that time,
(though not every
poem ought to rh..
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