=^..^=

lucascospina:

it’s a placid,

violent scene

this happiness and unhappiness,

satisfaction, but

too many nights stalled in

favor of both the making

and scattering of ashes-

denouement for my throat

my carpet

and an anxious contentedness

somewhat like things going too well.

things go well, too,

i guess, but it’s so 

hard to believe sometimes

even harder to write and be read

grasping for the same corner 

of that same sheet

in a souvenir sent

to yr. long lost sister, with 

a photograph of some casual,

favorite place

It’s best left unsaid 

sometimes so you can keep it yours

overlaid in your vision

on your table

and in your books

the last thing you see

before you sleep tonight,

hoping it will do with an alright irony

and haunt you

and haunt you

          




       - fr avery