Haze
until my split-
image arrives
He is casual
as if to bare
face
behind
skin is common
and he says
yes,
I am clarity,
your neighbors
play bop-it or moan
but you can't disoblige
them, flesh is fire
and they ache,
but you thought
as much in the fog.
Look:
you saw the chandelier's
tusks, and pictured
ivory,
but you can hardly kill
her outright. Shall I take
you by the hand, draw
more?
You nod,
hardly listen, weary-
pupils, let me tuck
those lids over, but know
that in the fog
you can only
quake.
I let him go,
the flame grows
damp, and a still
air rises.
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