universal woman

digging up the dregs on universal man
you meet universal woman: a voice of

evening shade in blazing noon, tagging
leaflets of metaphor misused by man

with soft whispers of a loudness that is
yet to; brown days with autumn sky

leafing pages of red history pulp with
rhythms of otters and snakes and

worms charging up chapters of the yet
to; warm dust mingles with moist air.

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