Thursday, November 17, 2016


I am seeing double when I see you;
icicles on the cream, a nosebleed
in the bleachers. The wind, it wraps
around your face and swaddles you.
Nothing escapes, not even your breath.
I am not so sure as never, when I am
sure at all. Leave this brevity for the
clowns, I'll stay safe in your mirror.
Locked in chains, the guardian spirits
are kept in check. They can do nothing
if we go wild, or run, or flee. Or paint
the landscape with a new kind of green.
Worse things have happened, you know.

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