not in perfect step but

coiled in the pause
between the tender flicker
of spider’s anxious web

in the single note
crescendo toward silence.

in sound’s timely death.

beneath the curves and
edges of a handwritten
word. beneath nonsense.

woven into
the breath it took to read this line.
in expiration.

in the space when we
are not touching but have come

or gone. in memory.

in the plucking of
petal from her selfish root.
folds of pushing skin.

in my dying eyes

the tremble of wanting lips
the tired exhale.
in the corners of

my mouth, spreading to smile,
laugh, ask,

run with teeth
reject cry
hit touch

regret or
fall away

in one






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