she refuses to end sentences with terror
though images of vacant desert
landscapes
force the last breath of air from her
lungs
seconds are melting incomprehensible
a soft voice answering and consoling
though she is holding hostage a velvet
rage
she watches a woman dousing wreckage with
the sea
a bare branch and timepiece on a
bedside table
drown by rebirth and the flocks
are coming
© 3.3.2016 heather brager
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