Wednesday, February 5, 2014

from the back porch of the carousel at night during a smoke break

Between the gently murmuring crowd behind me
and the soft, empty October night, stretching
So smooth so deep so dark
and so close it swaddled my eyes

I made those faces that you make
to your reflection, making those nobody's-watching-me
faces, with only that infinite intimate
emptiness for a mirror. Thoughts drift away, smoke
curling from my nose my throat my lips
curling twisting writhing into the hush of coming rain,

Like silent faces, unobserved, into the void.

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