you are the american spirit
dead lung grasp for a fallen heart
enchanted sandwich of shame and fleece
your gone-ness has me awake
making my breakfast out of inquisitiveness
one night
we laughed like black galoshes carpal-tunneling through the snow
our swift feet dotting a robust portrait
of our endeavors
and your décolletage
night’s revered grip has consumed me like a fire blanket
but my anatomy is as frank as indifference
the thought of you kills me
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