you know the ambivalent stride, path some three sidewalks wide. and while you found yourself fishing, waiting for what if, the rest of us were waylaid by we know, we’re reminded, we live with it now, and that clever little crease against your pillow face is going to stay, rupture, smiles on repeat, reemerging, until those legs carry you past what was so interchangeable, stuck, scissors left to cut away what was left, hair collecting in footfalls, what style will suit this time around, when eyes turn sideways and we tell each other, see?

# # #

in print:

Amazon.com

or for fucking free in digital

Smashwords.com

so long and thanks for all the pish.