Friday, January 13, 2017

100 Pieces of Paper and a Stolen Typewriter

I tried to open the packaging with the tip of a quill
and cursed myself as the delicate catch,
meant to pool ink,
split in two and folded over backwards

Something consoled me,
some things are just for show,
so I opened the package with my fingernails
and looked up the word "bravado"

I made a promise to myself to forgive mistakes,
to be delicate and hard, free and captured,
to forget about loneliness
and the unfolds of being split in two

Something like mercy or hard feelings
split open me as my fingertips
pecked harder at the keys
It made me feel brave again

I began to reckon the big picture
and that thing that often escapes me
made itself known in black ink
The universe swallows everything

So when I mention you, me, sex, 
gin, escape artists and tight wires,
all I mean to say is, do the right thing,
None of this will be remembered

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