think, tree-shaped shadows, windows
will reflect.
every time i die a little
religious confirmation, clairvoyant
remember forts and trees and
civil wars? ones without acronyms?
windows will reflect.
mirrors keep on lying, children
sit there crying, and god, it seems
so right. if i could only think
every day
there would be
everything
left to say.
wonder, revel, tree-shaped burns, the heart
it always knows when to turn
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