Night After Night

this graveyard
had a bobbed haired thing,
filling heart holes cast
from pets moving north.
the cemetery was
2nd period- art;
a cape clothing secrets,
that shed
when the world got
black.
sweaters came off;
shoe-gazing
lifted:
“there’s the sky’s scope”.
This evening’s veil,
relief i guess.
the tipping point
for words to come.
a mouth,
catching its breath
from being shut too much.

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