Wednesday, February 12, 2020

Taps on the mercury lake
of streams that cannot undo it
rustle of wings on leaves
bark thistle in air
a thick sigh of relenting.

Long drives in the aftermath
savoring rolled parchments
among the rinds and ash
pin cushions and yeasty masks
a dance in cemetery moss
rink of piano wire
a telecaster husband
flaming meat.

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