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Finite Desires

Shards of distaste as it runs its course.
The aching ligaments of my voice running hoarse.
A still life portrait and the pain it brings
An endless sacrifice for finite things.
The idea slips away, too unfashionable for this world.
Before I could blink, her name was out my mouth like a schoolgirl.
A hushed gasp at midnight, the bedskirt is blowing
Shadow feeds shadow, in the boat that I’m rowing.
Those subtle dips before the glacier strikes
Sounds of scurrying feet, like so many mice.
Splintering wood and the hiss of a match
A mumbled apology is all that I catch
My knees bite the ground, my anguish exposed
My oar hits the ice, my words have now froze.

Published in Poetry

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