This is
the year
without strings
I have no sway
over these seasons
I cannot pull them together
all the colors
I choose are difficult
to relay
the days
all have smooth edges
and dark corners
and despite
all my coaxing
the night won't come on
each sweep of
my hand cleans
with fallen joy
aimless and empty
I wish you would meet me
with mayhem and tension
I know
I surrender
all too easy
but the ember
of your name
is ever on my lips
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