the palatinate of childhood
the palatinate of childhood
the players
where did you fit in
fitted in
unthought
how the sculptor of time
and again rough edges
elbow jostled
into the grassed knees
the bloody grazes
the bandaged mothers
while all along the man
was growing in the boy
who ran the bridges
and jumped the streams
without biting his tongue once
all those days now just
an invisible splinter
under the nails of a clause
in the contract with youth
hold on
the wheel is turning
take your seat
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