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SYNAPSE

Where she lived the hills have died 

a peaceful scruff.


Women string knots around concrete

men string knots around concrete;

environment and scent.

What is encouraged, tied 

to feelings we can’t unravel.


Are we humane

in our talking 

in our attention to


walking through this siphoned air

objects in their abandon, unmoved.


Speech, flushed ruptures

synaptic happenings

in our talking to

in our attention to.


Wearing your sweater is a b natural

as mouths know pitch—sound.


Static walls

the whisper in objects

her mouth talking back to.


I have to learn listening.

I beg these askings to be examined.

Posted 12/19/15
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