Monday, April 4, 2016


I can’t promise I’ll ever finish
anything but I want to fill
my edges with a fine filigree
of remorse. Repeat after me.
Wait. Hold the silence close,
closer than the love of a razor
or the silvered breath of memory.
I know you want soft words
almost monochromatic, almost kind.
Soon you’ll realize I am in your way.





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