Still and Always and Again

2015-12-11 Troon House Interiors-1-Edit-Edit

The moon punches out a rim

of French-pedicured while light

familiar and elegant in her way

and under her, but not beneath her,

every imaginable dirty unraveling,

unwinding and winding, every

rushing importance and impotence, every dead

line runs itself ragged

unto the altar of morning.

And still and always and again,

like a languid lover,

she remains.

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