there are movements on the ridge
there is motion on the uphill
seas of green strands swaying on the willow
there are movements on the ridge
there is motion in the hackles
the silver of the hackles don't lie
when down comes the movement
plunging is the term of something
sinking into and then below
like a fork finding recessess
into the not quite set meringue
so crusty at first but then satisfaction
there are movements on his spine
it is like a drunken scorpion
doesn't know when to put it down
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