by Angelica Toumbas

buildings and stones
chatter and sigh and sing
reminding me of knotted trees
breathless seas by the coast
melting ice and quickening strides
elusive ties and indelible unknowns
the indiscernible hour
when the shadows stall and fall
and the nights no longer endure in emptiness
the gentle tug of an open window
and the mixing of the muffled motor
ten blocks away with the slow setting of a porcelain cup
with the gentle tapping of type
lifting hands
stacks of unsorted letters and
unfinished thoughts and the
coexisting quiet and bustle of
running with the wind
instead of like it
hours and lights that flicker
with the burning fragments of
words to parse
and roads to travel


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