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.