I cannot breathe nor run with this less language.
Angela Carr, The Rose Concordance
the moon is self-contained
it says nothing about the rest of us
, between these condos
& financial buildings
try to listen as your lines expand
what is it Marcus said about one hundred
& twenty syllables?
snow patterns over worth
time is what happens so
not everything happens at once
at least one theory; another,
all time happens
at the same; a simple passage,
standing at the window, distracted
pulls down Christmas lights
Lainna naked, humming
a small tune
the cartilage of warmth
, soft along the junction
the moon wanes strumpet
plunges as it misses
hanging down around the
knees, that dare not speak
Lady Godiva, redirects
when the ends of the earth
is the opposite shore
wind catches sails our hair
& these artificial flowers
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