A Lonely Brace

A brace was left to support the whole of it.

 

Inside the wind,

It was so carelessly held,

Asking so little.

 

A word might have knocked it down.

 

The lonely brace, in the wind,

A poem made—

Broken down to fit a throat.

 

So soft it tenders the stomach.

 

I might just come out tonight

To hold it: this brace.

 

It feels better, knowing—

The fantasy of me, holding.

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