From within a dim light cast
two silhouettes on the shade
70
miles pour hours
emblazoned
down the window
on
those drying streets that peer
listless
into your cold room
onto
your dying sheets
And
I stood there on the corner
where
the pale green things
met
the asphalt; two years nonethewiser
wondering why I’m
not the guy
who’s silhouette’s on the
shade.
“Because
monogamy is the 5th season”
forever
shadow-caressing the blade
along
your arm’s arm.
Striking,
isn’t she?
Striking
in her gauze-white gown
Striking
out
is
she
as
she projects like eclipses
her
silhouette on the shade.
And
your keychain feels lighter
when
the miniature flashing Chicago skyline
fell
off in deep November
No longer numbering our days
murmuring me away from your silhouette
on the shade.
Imagine
living in a state of constant exhalation
Now imagine living.
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