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Untitled, as it Stands.
you cannot unthink
 a memory knit by agile hands
 tracing your lips
 with a single outstretched, naked finger
 
 flashing past a world unseen,
 a quilt of fingerprints
 overlappingandstacked
 bone-red and scarlet-white;
 wholesomely captivating within
 the margins – the staggered trim fence—
 outlined with a water-based pen.
 
 an unwritten song – or law?—that stands
 before the world
 infinite.translucent.compelling…
 stooped over and unfolding.
 you taste it in the space
 between your lips:
 ice cold, sunflower rain, brushes flushed cheeks.
 
 a collection of cherry chapstick,
 empty bottles, pencil
 scratches cast like shadows
 across the floorboards
 running, kicking, floating…
 the skeletons in your closet
 come out to dance,
 stalk&hunt to govern your dreams.
 
 
 the sky curved inward and collapsed,
 creating this delightful mess;
 a decieving trap.
 and i am the one who fell into it.
 stumbled into it.
 rolled into it.
 s
 u
 n
 k into it.
 
 tear open the envelope
 reseal the lies
 running the tongue along its edge
 a trail of callous saliva in its wake
 no, no, you cannot unthink
 a memory etched in time
 by the hand that feeds you
 oh –but the words sink in
 and the strawberry wine
 hits you
 right
 where
 it
 hurts.
 
 and then
 the sun
 will rise.

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