self
-surgery
i whisper to
that time
before
morning
after night
the warm
body all
time sinew
outside
taking the
bus in the
snail trail
light / time
after
morning
before
night & it
cannot
endure it
cannot
follow the
instructions
given to
look back
one last
placid &
unmeaning
stare at the
unlost must
have been
good living
there
laughing &
making
patterns on
the back of
my hand in
cigarettes
in skinny
dress a
forget-me-
not sash &
there’s one
drunk yet
stumbling
on next
street but
never yet
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