Divisions


dividing orange-yellow days
finite as ever before
fixing glasses on a tuesday
to the tea I hold today, on a wednesday
 
staying immaculate with purple lips on a night
frustration over dinner just a wisp
in the wind of the moon upstairs
and perfume spilling as water, your breath
 
though
I spoke of nothing yesterday
each minute a metal rod
collected around our feet
far from made-up cobwebs in the shop
 
sitting downstairs in the library
a face in a stripe of light
and a woman in pink outside
carrying the skeleton of a forgotten animal
 
the frowning building next-door
a wish and a hope
encased soft in white bread
suffocating silent in plastic tears
 
but enough nonsense now
for this year is better
and the leaves we hold onto
as they fall of their own accord
 
glimmering shadows
past the paint of
your fresh cream door

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