the grace of the fall
Like a wall leant in against the grace of the fall
Wrath and mead
Hammocked back against the grain summer
The rose stained slow for the curtain of the little animals
Kingdoms bear their women
Women bear their kingdoms
Wreaths solemn and unweary
Arduous nectar for the drop
The plasma beam may not cut her ire
Nor waste the standard of her snake
Wedged against the land to make the space for capitals
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