Sad Labels:
verse
On both sides of the pen.
It's right there in front of me.
Two noons later and any
name I try to give it.
Fails.
Waiting for the
slope to gently cup its hands.
Falling because it's
The fastest way to
Get there.
On either end of the room
It pitched in quiet furies.
In cotton coffins grinned
By the moon, while every window
Looked in.
And saw nothing.
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