December 2010
15 posts
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The Lone Glove
The Lone glove,
33rd street station,
lost and stranded
on a sea of cracked ceramic isles.
I think I’m in Love.
4:52 am, December 15th.
Walking through a
silent scattered crowd,
Transfixed—
I wonder when they noticed
it was gone.
[if at all]
What’ll they do with its pair,
throw it out?
I suppose a glove is no good
without the Other.
Tongueless we crawl
in somber...
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