#113. Beginning With A Line By Kerouac

December 16, 2009

It’s the eye of God, there’s no bottom—
and my pores opened to the smell of the road.
Cloves and small furry animals.
You pressed my flesh tender from youth and lonliness.
How long’s it been since we walked along with the weather
together?
Just talking and gesturing nobody
but us and the moon.
You are a dam or Eve and I am the candle.
Oh blow that fucker out and come to bed.

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