quiver

Have a seat. Take a rest. Relax.
Whatever you do, you will fear
Will hear the woman with a bow and quiver,
The rustle, the crackle, the whisper.
Whatever you think, you will think of her. She is neither
Thanatos nor Eros, she isn’t
Greek at all. Nor is she a martyr,
Not even that. Filmmakers
Love the phrase you look like shit, feeling reluctant
To demonstrate it. Enjoy the show.
Every kind of heathen
Roams the canyons, the streets now and then. Feathers,
Arrows, face paint, fragrant air, deified
sniffing felines as companions, all that jazz.

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