orchard
I grow arms
& legs . a face
will appear & I
shall learn speech
if bleeding is needed
I'll open
the veins , bead
this orchard red
it will grow bones
this
is my graveyard . 'm
behind these stones
singing
with new lips . I grow
skin for these rites , coming
in profusion , renewing
dead earth
buy from:
http://www.paraphiliamagazine.com/oneirosbooks/the-king-is-dead/
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