Register the
The glass of red wine, swirling (opposite and together)
The warmth flowing from you to it
The curve of the glass, cool in your hand
The biting in the back of your throat
The settling of the fog on your skin
dampening
You can’t think of
These leaving things.
Don’t remember so intently,
It shouldn’t be so intentional.
Shiver slightly
The lights distorted
In water-coated twilight
Silk and glass poems and prose
Shredding nonsense
Ebony, slip quietly
Foolish fools talk of nothing
To cover up the hidden triggers
Imaginary weapons that
Wound more than ordinary guns and knives.
You try and keep the ones that sing or scream
Under careful observation.
You don’t want to think that maybe
They have a better grasp
(It shouldn’t be so intentional.)
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