My first
thunderstorm
is denim dark
bleeding into the
wash
a blue serge
my fathers legs
have my back
East over the
paddocks
it comes
west my father
leans against the
housewall
one strong arm
secures me
Lightening is the
shape of love
safety in the face
of it
even now
a thunderstorm
fills me euphoric
with light
What keeps me
from walking out
fizzing into the
ozone
denim warm
conforming
to my shape
cotton comfort dark
as a dye lot
a strong arm
a strong arm
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