by the time i slowed to know
no picture of the sky
the sun was still there
still setting
waiting for my next move
unaware of my existence
orbits unrelated
scenes unscripted
is this take three
or was that the final cut
nougat and other mysteries
a bestselling story collection
someday to be written
i am for poetry
short and wordsplattery
feeling and then done
i am for novels
stretching out and tangling
whose woods these are
in greater detail
testing out realities
the short story still enigmatic
no need for definitions
plot or character or done in one sitting
the pleasure of a sneeze
the satisfaction of waking up
pressed down by layers
duvet and comforter and darknes
there is nothing to be afraid of
there is no reason to think twice
onward outward inward off
turn the channel and strike the chord
cannot get off easy
cannot say any more
got it all out now again?
ready to refill
never with hot ashes
hot oil
frozen feet
fears of further loneliness
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