Tuesday, January 7

My Raining Life

My raining life,
I am you as
puddles are
pavements

Won’t we get along?

& the 23 passes me;
‘for the 20th time
they’re falling in love.’

It’s syrup for
eleven p.m.

For night skies are nice tries & I
have my heart set
on alone dying—

My windy life,
I am you as
lilies wilt,

as petals brown
to leaves,
green bottles
empty—we’ve
not got long

Papers burn out

Through the
rain that blows,

I am not done.

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