What We Can’t See

Three eyes, with only
one to see–laying
a floor pebble by pebble,
mosaic for humanity

to step all over. Cracks
full of life past by,
Ghosts in our bodies
exhale all the pressure

I put on myself to get
to you. Under what skin,
what blanket can I find you

again, reaching for spirals
of my hair, clavicle soft
as lace?–I see the dulling
blade twinkling out,

what a hush will come
over us, as we drift
through creeks, as I
grasp up steeper inclines..


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