‘Wogs out’ the graffiti sprayed In those Bedfordshire days That led me to question With what affection was my sort held? Signed ‘NF’ in
What my love en/tails I inhabit these rooms these Watery walks with Egyptian alabaster women & genuine Angels, calypso mermaids, Very old seas that roar
O me O my O molten ash, sulfuric gas—where was Jesu at your Vesuvius— I ask centuries later because I am feeling
A litre of water seeps from my face, My stomach ties in knots, My heart quickens its pace. Intestines clenched and bladder squeezed, My mouth
in my dream I became a mermaid, suddenly understood/had to understand how treasure chests breathe heavy in the dark & darker sea, just as every black pearl understands/must
taste like my beloved: Russians, like many Others, dubbed the blacks of Europe— through him I see my shadow come to light: the rest is
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