Sunday, October 19, 2014

to be deserving of hate

christmas come early
such that frost grows like
lichen, such that i grow
without you.
what is it to be deserving of hate?
wind-chapped cheeks, the kindest of souls
eyes that twinkle for many men
hearts that ripen with distance
futures abandoned?
next door, a dog whines
unendingly
for a certain body.

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