Sugar Ross

Tremors in arms, wrap cords,

Deliver sad psalms, the uneven

Kind

 

With reproach, she moans

In dismay, I can’t help but

Join her side

 

Of roads, wind swept

And foreign, the common

Sty, of what it means to lie

To yourself

 

I can’t help but trace a finger

Down your spine, stepped

Rigid with worms or what’s

Left of

 

Large oval eyes, trapped

Sparks, in hands, in palms,

Fingernails—slathered love:

The lover’s fold

 

Placed deep in the center

Of those who wish for

Resolve, to remember the

Lost

 

Sometime in the fall, we

March the step of scorched

Paws, rooms of butterflies,

Hanging in frames

 

Spiked down—

Representing the beauty you had

When I last wrapped

My eyes on you.

 

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