December 17

comments 7
poetry

I dreamed a door
swept shut

and felled a row
of empty bottles

that didn’t break
but scattered about

with hollow echoes
and you were there

saying careless, careless,
careless, careless

awake again
light coils

on the floor
cool-hued pools

of star and streetlamp,
making a cold thing

colder
sleep an uneasy truce

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