At The Edges Of Speech
It's hard to know
exactly why
Some words
are wild
and continue
beyond their speaking.
In the poet's life
like ghosts
they recur.
they follow you home
like fortune cookie
At the end of your palm
and plate.
these crumbling
prophesies
have lost
their warmth.
dead stars
like lines
freezing
at the edges
of speech.
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