agony can find no
foothold
where birds swim over
bare trees
clouds are plush
strokes
so many paint brush
footprints
I can hear people speaking
some of it hurried,
some hush
as need desires
as desire needs
something pulls these
phalanges, muscles
tendons, ligaments, to
pen this poem
not razor thin wires
fueled by fire
but creaky gears and
assemblages
from a deep pocket of
want
I lack satisfaction,
hoping
some answer might come
knocking at my bedroom
door
when I am deepest in
slumber
mouth open as close to
trusting
as it has been
since I let myself
slip
into mid-life
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