wash.
bleach yesterday’s bones.
return His relics to the mantle.
we are barely tomorrow,
so save it, or trash it.
all the time is in
tomorrow’s bed.
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- Slugtrail Slime
- This is a place to track my slow progress as a poet and thinker. I figure here is a better home for them than in a rundown documents folder. Please comment and critique as I am not yet William Carlos Williams or Emily Dickinson.
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