This Smile

By | 1 November 2012

was not brought to you by Facebook
curvature of the lips simultaneous
to a flicker of your looking
this warm spring morning
your hands never still
bring in the tide I can’t get
from one end of the house to the other
my shouts are blown back into my mouth.
the hills scalloping the horizon
this muslin shield is useless

I make myself porous to hold you in

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