cut to breath

you’ve found me,
at last, only your features
are spreading out
beneath us spiraling out
from same
disgrace,

and at least there’s
her smile when she’s
not the groomed
manners to
wave,

so wave ’em on thru
like we’re already
dead,

they wave us on home
under sweaters, pulled
out and stretched
over our heads

cut to breath.

image: https://www.flickr.com/photos/rick-deacon/26143367556/

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