Boy at Edge of Woods

Hello Mr. Magazine - - EDITOR'S NOTE -

After his gasp and god damn, after his zip­per closes its teeth, his tongue leaves its shad­ows, leaves me alone to pick pine nee­dles from my hair, to brush brown leaves off my shirt as blades of light hang from the trees, as I re­learn my legs, mud­stained knees, and walk back to my burn­ing house.

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