The Book of Gwenivere
Spicer on Gwenivere
This teacup Christ bled into. You are so polite, Lance
All your heros are so polite
They would make a cat scream.
I dreamed last night that your body had become a gigantic
adventure. Wild horses
Could not tear it away from itself.
Was the whole earth you were traveling over
Rock, sand, and water.
Christ, and this little teacup
Were always between us.
I was a witch, Lance. My body was not the earth, yours
not wild horses or what wild horses could not tear
Politely, your body woke me up
And I saw the bent morning
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