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you apologized with art you, filling the room of your mouth with earth carefully. you brush the dirt into the center of each flawed little room, humming. there’s a light in the front yard across the street where i cast my long-over moody shadow about the couch, backwards: where she and i slept in our soft vapor and when it was across the room where you placed me as if i were a piece on a table like “all part of the game” that i forgot to think of as you slept beside me, sorry or not sorry i say you’ve grown taller as if sowing eight drops of blood had stirred something within your spine, undamaged and still young cracking in your sleep my jaw told her i dream of some long lost bird and she understood, there in the humming clarity of that first-floor room where we’d never been as if this could all be about me and the condition of light on that first morning: the music which i did not hear the room that i never saw (but wept at all the same) the things you hide from me, even now each photograph is too big for truth and how surprised i find myself at being finished.
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Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 8:37 PM UTC
you apologized with art
you apologized with art you, filling the room of your mouth with earth carefully. you brush the dirt into the center of each flawed little room, humming. there’s a light in the front yard across the street where i cast my long-over moody shadow about the couch, backwards: where she and i slept in our soft vapor and when it was across the room where you placed me as if i were a piece on a table like “all part of the game” that i forgot to think of as you slept beside me, sorry or not sorry i say you’ve grown taller as if sowing eight drops of blood had stirred something within your spine, undamaged and still young cracking in your sleep my jaw told her i dream of some long lost bird and she understood, there in the humming clarity of that first-floor room where we’d never been as if this could all be about me and the condition of light on that first morning: the music which i did not hear the room that i never saw (but wept at all the same) the things you hide from me, even now each photograph is too big for truth and how surprised i find myself at being finished.
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Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 8:37 PM UTC
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