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May 16, 2013 Poetry

The Gnostics

Donora Hillard

The Gnostics photo

for APS

In the dream you are not a lamb on fire.
You are you and you are telling me to run,
something is coming after my heart. I don't
listen and you head for the trees anyway.
Your hair is perfect. I say
I hope we don't make it as the sky goes
alkaline. It does. What it always does.

image: Andromeda Veach