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Dust

Dust

Smoking patio
breathing pine bush
leaves of green razor.

The march leaf hanging like a crippled
butterfly–

A starless morning,
the cuffed breeze,
a sky’s crisp condescension
the blueness of your monster:
to speak in taxidermy,
empty sound bytes

your mouth reeling celluloid
stuffed with black feathers. I
will not see you long again, it
should grow dark tonight

You will talk your way back into it.

Editing stage: 

Comments

Many great images. And some great lines. In particular; your mouth reeling celluloid, stuffed with black feathers. Is it about quitting smoking? At any rate, good stuff! ~ Geezer.
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This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

wish. I think I smoked almost two packs a day when I wrote that poem. Thank you

author comment

"the march leaf hanging like a crippled butterfly" agree with geezer, so many good images. love this.

Beautiful and sad write as if you need to jump out of your window or break the thick glass you look at the sky through

IRiz

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