Renewing our promise
(under the meanest table).
We are at it again.
During the interval
I step in and hold my breath.
I can only I dream I am swimming.
Inland. Further.
Limpet. Lapping. Lovely.
Beholding you I die.
Mandible.
I am filled in with social motion, a twist
towards yours in direction.
All anomalies have a practical value.
Our promise flashes off the crest
I have long wanted to write.
© Sophia Roberts
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