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Placebo

Your topography, little bird, your topography ebbs
as the communist down the hall from my bed
keeps candy in his opinion baits
and baits separation with beats
pulled from your teeth.

Black fingers lidding the love tips of what won’t last,
Perfect with Emptiness: “Isolate your spatial sex you pass
that I fall into like a foot into a mile.”
Imbalance of callouses tell you Big Brother is blind.

The stone will hang from your cloud
when you choose yours.
There’s pavement between the cracks,
there’s a reminder
of what you’re for.

I can’t say that I see you
on the ground floor of my placebo
going up.
You’ll be in a perfect tense.
I’ve always meant what I said.
She’ll find a way in the harp of her notebook.
You can’t make a mistake if you leave it alone.

It’s Roman Dirge’s shades of mended light I love
...and you spend the life wondering what the girl’s made of?
Sights set on sweet and sour sangria and stone
in the stored born hands of sestina to loan.

The stone will hang from your cloud
when you choose yours.
There’s pavement between the cracks.
there’s a reminder
of what you’re for.

Perfect with Emptiness: “Mean what I say, say what I mean.”
I’ll run over your glass roses with my steel limousine.
All the burst witches
tear the worst stitches.
Love-- but not now.
And cure it if you can.

I can’t say that I see you
on the ground floor of my placebo
going up.
You’ll be in a perfect tense.
I’ve always meant what I said.
I’ll find a way in the harp of my notebook.
I can’t make a mistake if I leave it alone.
I can’t make a mistake if I leave him alone.

Love -- but not now.
And cure it if you can.
There’s pavement between the cracks.



Fate