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Seranaea Jones
Poems
Aug 2021
"inches"
-
it was working towards me
in tiny increments with this
unusually adamant
determination
loop-scooting itself across a
hot gravel desert populated
by abrasively inert killers
scraping off bits of itself
in detail along the way
i gave it a liftβ
it rolled into a tight ball,
relaxed and then died
in my hand
its last act, a lamenting as if
i had denied it some chosen
final resting place
leaving me holding
this barometer
for measuring the spaces
between those less than
lofty of goals in the better
part of my years...
s jones
2021
.
Written by
Seranaea Jones
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