6.4.11

3

Walking on Cotton Pads

sniff the children of rose
now close
into a bottle of wind
of solar eyes a pint

drink no fullness of breath
clouds of freedom bath
and halt. halt. halt. calm the child
swim it through the wild

"grope me head," says he
blow a peace before flee
"grope me head," say i
and fly. fly. fly. fly. fly.

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