Looking Out from Where You Once Stood

Looking Out from Where You Once Stood


The corners never turn.
No witness established
the degree of their fractured
evanescence, angles bear
the taste of swearability.

The arc of memories
arranged with patience:
bitter, moist, entangled.
A trigger that makes
the human heart bleed.

Fiction allows a corner
to be replaced (curved, bent)
so one can breathe. Answers 
the real, the vacated.

Malleable, the wall
where one was cherished.
A sense of curvature stands
where once you stood.


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