The central authorities announce
that time has gone into stasis;
innocent observers chalk it up
to another knock-on effect
of that same old misdirected love.
But when you put it that way,
when you cite Fear
and unwarranted exchange,
I’m suffered to remember
that there’s a cold stealing
across my sluggish bones
toward an obvious destination.
There’s good reason to worry,
just not the reason you think;
we’re cutting up the gander
and dangering the evidence;
we’re shortening the droop
and liquidizing the absence,
your absence
as it slides down my back
tepid and wet.
A modicum of hope sparks
from an imposed dilemma;
it leaves me without end,
far beyond the scope
of your attempted intervention.
by matt at shadow of iris
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