will melt it all away:
the exact shapes of
tops of these trees,
laugh lines, crow’s feet,
maps of daily walks
there, on that street, stands
a minute from not so long ago
its wax melting in the sun
visiting hours running out
will melt it all away:
the exact shapes of
tops of these trees,
laugh lines, crow’s feet,
maps of daily walks
there, on that street, stands
a minute from not so long ago
its wax melting in the sun
visiting hours running out
were packed inside
5 boxes this evening
now it’s only dust
on the cold marble floor:
no book by the bed
no shadow on the wall
no trace left behind
on 27th Main Road at all
today it’s a tree bent
under the weight of flowers
sometimes it’s a person,
a place, an idea; or even nothing
so much fits right in — some
for a moment, others for life
the centre of life holds a lot, but
never a thing shaped like me
those who know
a thing or two
will smooth out
rough edges
strike out
what’s yours
saw off
whole limbs
with cold
precision
just to make you
more “relevant”
(prompt)
i envy you
walking on water
touching nothing
spectator to your own life
nameless, unnoticed, you
swallow worlds whole —
they’re right there, unharmed,
when you turn around
(prompt)