Title Amnesia
The cherry tree died I suspect it was a borer
Its leaves droop dry brittle The sparrow
No longer perches there
As when the tree had even one green bough
What was the name of the book
We loved where every word was true
Your sister just got a tattoo
I told her I lack the nerve for a thing like
That or the right combination of hysteria
And commitment The same combination
Needed for suicide There is a bleak euphoria
In her—–the headlong blast of a train
Narrowly switching from end to mark
You know something about edges
You calmy walk to the deck
And look out over the rails of bridges
And what voice speaks what you inuit
In those moments only you will know—-
But what you wear is something like a woe
Coalesced out of some reduced pursuit
Once I saw your suffering as beautiful
Now I see you’re suffering
Wavering on the point of resolution no longer hopeful
I was a sheaf and you were the binding
I gather straw from which your dreams
Were spun and heap it into a storehouse
So you might draw from there when time comes
Beside you until the current returns to your face
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