but i think
he was…
wooden man
in the kudzu
left to rot
in the rain
silly
him standing
like that
leaves
choking what
would be breath
i admire
his dexterity…
his absurd serenity…
his inability
to cry…
tears kissing
my lips…
the rain…
falling like shrapnel…
the wounded
not yet conscious
to the roots
loosening their grip
on the soil…
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