Stonecrusher Mortlock loved
Margarita or Manzanita
sharp as chiming birds, whoever she was,
Margarita, Manzanita, alight
She was a thin one,
knuckles and chin,
so below her body weight she came back up
the other side,
curved as bat wings,
hooked and round as a barrel cactus
Her areoles were red as sunstroke,
aloe smooth her limbs were glinting,
bold as lime
she burnt campfires
into being when she spoke
Stonecrusher mortlock was a landmass
to her weaverbird, a slingshot
to her needled nest
Like most men afraid of the desert
Stonecrusher Mortlock clung to her boundaries
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