I shall not miss you when we meet under cover of night and you are incognito in the headlights

glare of rabbit snare, the train howl, the wind scowl, the twisted branches, like immortal embraces, those earth arms waiting to hold me, cold as a mother who dared not love

her only daughter and a father who made love to the steel stars which bled through the black tar highway of his arms, pump in muscle, pump out impossible. We exhaust ourselves in pursuit of ourselves. I shall not miss you, mirror of broken glass where I see my reflection pass, deep gash which leaves a scar over who we really are.


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Filed under Poem, poetry, travel, writing

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