Saturday
Sharps
In confession,
I become dangerous,
everything just inside,
waiting.
Someone's disintegration
is predicted
like snow.
Amateur
I see the lid
lifted
gleaning the prospect
I have never spoken truthfully.
Combination continues
until
I pull out my claws
and retire to
watch the pendulum
in moments
of backwards
swing
insight.
So solid,
I gather
my razor darts
and set up
again.
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