Made a deer from driftwood

I smile when I think of

The truth

I don’t like how you treat me

I don’t like how you make me feel

I was late for December

Sharp mountains

Made a journal of patience in the sky

A horizon read, “I was here.

I was calm”

It’s magic when New York feels small

I know each of your smiles

A prayer for sugar

warm cheeks

and cookies

To sustain the fox

Save the straps

I hear the winds of demise

It’s an unfulfilled clock

with a baby duck

And an unexpected

     miraculous champion

 

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