Thursday, January 22

faces

 these lying faces

 all mask no soul:

 

 this one face-on is a skull,

 from the side, a weeping child

 blue eyes looking full of tears

 even when they aren't.

 

 my soul begs: no more, no more,

 take me away from this--

 

 how can i say this?

 you are a ripe fruit

 juice running down my chin

 these others, a bite of air.




july 2023

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