The spring of the catch of your arms

The spring of the catch of your arms

is sprung

and warm sun cool clouds

opens up an embrace


so the thrust of the pump of the heat

of your heart

holds how

to the rumbletumble thereness of us


and warm breath liquid eye

the mirrored woman

and the brightest of beasts



and the down of the skin of the soft of your arm

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Stories and other writing by Ben Thurley

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