“…though this loft be of a blushy bent” | James D. Autio

I arise though round in vaults
                                                    along each edge of my clumsy
streams and gestures lift to a
                                                    posture peach beam plump it
turns cold in the upper skies
                                                    reaches of soft space pushes
in song through the dough of
                                                    my ears the measure cadence
is made by angles this lilt put
                                                    shuffled to carry me along as
repetitions strung like a heart
                                                    bead hang short of idle strain
my climb through echo wings
                                                    we form alongside interludes
in action we flaunt to touches
                                                    doubled of a bliss lovers send
out in signatures waving with
                                                    mineral and thirst which has
essential state and has known
                                                    transparency a honeycombed
plexus of earthen bump thud
                                                    the shorter hedges the stalk 
of balconies overhanging city
                                                    bearing crouched and hidden
couples passed overhead by
                                                    circuits of wind and waterfall
the way warm canopies cool
                                                    while evening drops to fluent
healing curves as souls render.
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