Exhale
Crosshatched shrugs
and discarded revisions
litter the ground beside
rooted indecision.
Stale words bow deeply
in the air
for too long, far
too long for a ‘so long’
and now time grips,
and slips
between the tiny spaces,
portraits of framed faces
atop creaky shoulders
splintered
and
bouldered.
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