The fan is on, the wobbling light fixture
makes noise with its chain. Venus is appearing
before dawn in the east above the pasture
filled with cows. I think I'm hearing the weather
change and shuffling veils—just the allure
of her is unbelievable. I pondering magic
to win her, rhetoric that might help conjure
the beloved. I look up at the fixed stars
and feel my motion, I am lost to the lure
of her soft body, words and thoughts. I come
to the next canal, I see the circling vultures
announce death. The morning star disappears
but wanders unseen in the demure sky.
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