Like raw le Carré
relieved of superfluity
denuded
My love is the flay of a switch
I receive gladly
The vital, stone-bound,
Tight-fossilled coil of grief
immutable
Not sprung by poor men's tools
or violate fingers
And yet, with toffee hammer taps
the surface of me is crazed
refracting
and not some stupid slab
but many sweet slivers for sucking
slicing
and dissecting your reluctant mouth
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