height of it





Night long..
Voice dwells in a wide range of calls.

Your core-scrapping throw of lengthy yells to
short and sharp drumming clucks in repeats.
Did you get her (or them) after all?

Now, the limit.
Open daylights in daring.
You still keep going in tempo.
Croaking quenchless..as I sat on myself
spreading my warmth, when no one else had been there.


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