collaborative piece from vince bauters and josh zoerner
i was sleeping in trying
to hide. it was
the only time
i was mismanaging
clinging to the sheet and
October light. Michigan rain held in the
screen and no appetite for
apples.
i could sit outside in the fog, watch
swans, but you would tell me to
come inside.
give a steady, white hand to the
child playing man near the river. and bring
us all into the same room
where dim lights reveal a
silent understanding of creating
one's swan song.
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