gets no closer the bone”.
always an audacity.
the least at once to counterfeit,
detected to indicate a shadow
it. And if you find the skeleton
shuck it, along the wall string it out
to a position sitting like the sitting we sit.
Or sit the bones.
They fall in place
to the linear sense of joints locked
something; nothing that the seeker
does at the not time exist same.
Linear gets no closer
nonsense. I need for it
the bone in the fruit,
another spur disconnect,
another scalpel across a decade,
Where architects of those who signed,
have this colony my credit slip,
the hand when those I hope to accompany,
others in which grew too numb—
gone I just woke up to grasp the pen
I know that granted such me a night could not be repeated;
Tomorrow night and breathing into imperfect—
This quite preterite ordinary even in ordinary life.
In this kudzu
Site or scar?