Gracious Arrangements

For the hands that guide
warmth to clarity.
The image that fragments.

Correlation of fragments
that grasps at attentiveness.
A straight shot

from here to the brain.
Sublime semblance.
Though I didn’t linger that far

from the onset, I felt
my joints tighten in the windy
chill of bare branches

flowing in the dark,
and the moon seemed of blear.
A muffled hysteria

for us to snuff
and express in bitter
blots of hunger.

I wasn’t quite
as sound as I let on. Still,
for language, a precipice

and a sense of community.
I spent my knuckles on the fix.
Gracious arrangements.

-r. miller


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