low

low

vertical, this

vertigo

pulling at lips

dusky corners,

beseeching.

hand-me-down

run-around

doe eyes,

darkness.

timber, pine

cinders

wind the clock

upon mantle

counting time since

before war or two

for me, you.

This diffidence

is feral, infantile.

Claim the field

reddening grasses

tattered flags, satin.

linen you lie in

hyperbole distance

color of indigo weeping

softly, so soft, as to

capture whisper

fine mesh chinois

filter sound to only

meaning.

sagging braggadocio

quiet politicos sign

double entendre.

Where now will

your breath go?

keep it slow.

ever, ever

so very low.

 

image courtesy of Pinterest

 

 

 

 

19 thoughts on “low

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