Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Trepanation

There was a hole in the ice
the width of your iris
A hole in the cloud the exact size
of your hatband
The clock fell into a hole in the wall
we could hear it ticking through the plaster
A thousand pencils of light
came shining through the holes in the roof
to write your name across my face
and melt the mask, and drill a new hole
through which floated a single
ring of smoke

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