d = rt erasure

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© 2012 S. D. Stewart

At night I welcome, empty and silent, shadow trees
Beneath my fears it’s safe
It might not matter
Morning is white shreds of a shroud shrugged off
Suspend to gaze on bareness I always see
Time plagues
How far is it that matters
I can never get some time
I hate cellophane
Suck the rush, spit the sky, fall with no reason
Stretch out, fail the clouds
These things are objects
I don’t want control, our actions sung once
We state the obvious, of course
Of course they know I was crippled
I failed in the rain, spitting the candy
My tongue broke
And now this tinker to solder a space
Behind organs of my own

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