From the Rim of Lake Okeechobee

all beauty needs
is what’s hidden beneath
a city’s catacombs, what pricks the sole
of your feet as you walk, careful not to
tread over cracks

your voice in the shower, sounding
false & better

an empty birdcage

where I’ve been home
searching for you in airwaves,
feeling nothing but a slap of masks,
the cling wrap,
eye lashes,
crumpling the innocence
of my face
like unfeeling pavement

only pretending
to know

when the sky will unpack
its truths. what it lacks

as we live
freezing in the questions of midnight.


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