subtle (b)rush of wind against hope

sugarcane and an itch,
downplay the silence
like a noose wrapped
tightly around hope.
heal the tree bark,
unetch the stone.
don’t let me catch you feeling.
turn bones to felled branches
at the next intersection,
veer left,
and call the numbers
as you see them
not how
they
stand.
pay (no) attention
to the melody in the pages;
there’s nothing to hear here
but vacant, averted stares.
did i lose you to fear?
what is it you’ve got there—
you shift your fist behind
your arched spine.
nothing, there’s nothing here—
buoyant eyes anchored tongue
you cannot drown
your hunger.
absent ache,
threaded desire,
unwinding at the first touch
of warmth.
i no longer know
what flimsy truth
to cling to for
satisfaction
between each
detoxifying
blink.

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