Sunday, November 21, 2021

leaving a small mark

forever, the lucky white lies
inside a neverending day
there are nervous words 
for most of this

I hear you saved me a plate
and become an avalanche 
crashing with applause
my mouth a riot 

praying for the day to soften 
nursing its rotten return--
what might not happen 
after I reread this

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all the things

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