Saturday, May 2, 2020



4am
again
as my sallow
cells
search for
a reason
a follicle
or any
spare gland
in the gray
mix of nothing
even my
friends
feel like
fallacies
this morning
vapor I thought
I could clutch
and if these
dingy clouds
roll away
by dawn
the sun
can burn
me down
sure as I’m
stuffed inside
this stoop
of assumption
regardless it
feels like it’s
time to turn
off the light
for good
smash the bulb
let the
fragments scatter
where they may

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