IS IT SHARP ENOUGH?

To roll with the latest mouth. Open wide. A lingering of dust. The thick of the closet. Layers. What gets rubbed in, then out. Pushed to the back. A carving glare, misplaced. First day nursing last night. A sleeve lost on the bottom. Firmed by the heel. Skirting bandaged on hips, rosy with wryness. A drying apart. Air parched, puckered. An ending pointed. Pigeon-toed. The lanterns filled, filling the cart. A wagon, full of little hearts. What is given, stuck to the shirt. Worn in shared spaces. Torn. Cut in two. Empty-handled pieces of the pie. Married. The knife stain. A burying.

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