Expectations
Fishing poles
upright, startling
nothing as the
water moves in slight
gold station updates
with unearthed
fixtures on your
back. I’ve seen you,
happening by the
lives of the normal,
under a journey
made untreatable
by fawns and idle
wheels in the forest.
None of us knows
the pull of the morning,
the way it falls even
under the blanket to
wake you with sleepy
hands, We are
passionate about
nothing, belted into
cracked bucket seats
as the clouds
hurdle toward us,
two fallow beings
making love
in the night.
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