a broken shape
— Benjamin McPherson Ficklin
a polygon with all its lines obliterated points flung across a desolate plane
they don’t trust me & today, again, she said I don’t love her enough
which is perhaps the same thing, alas, honest & devastating, hurtful & hurt
with all of me trying hard to be radiant for all of you
nothing as something as nothing, a solid void stagnant waterfalls careening over
flat precipices: dying, dehydrated, crawling across the ocean desert, the mirage
of the oasis on the horizon erupting into a helix (a helix) of flame
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