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Three Poems, by Simon Perchik


Blurred yet something with wings
tucked in its eggs and your skin
swollen for a single cry

to feed on a morning close by
with a warm bowl held out
dripping the way flowers

still blossom in pain
careful not to leave the ground
—it could have been

some hillside, after a long flight
carrying your arm as a stronghold
for rain not yet dying down

between strangers and shelter
—it happened so fast
there’s nothing left to pull back.


This door slams easily now
though in the dark
it remembers more

reaches around and the rain
returned to you as lips
pressed together

weighs almost nothing
keeps both these hinges
from drying the way a deathwatch

night after night anchors
against the splash
and makes from your hand

a mask to ward off the Earth
tightening around your cheeks
two shadows, two mouths.


You weed the way these two lions
were carved, half strong box
half where the graves

are kept safe so step by step
you can count the names
taking hold place to place

the only Deed left
that will never have a home
—these cornered beasts

outnumber you—just to start
though your fingers spend their time
heated over a small stone

could calm these dead
and the tall wet grass struggling
not yet the riverbank they need.


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  3. killzone-godofwar reblogged this from fwrictionreview and added:
    title explanes itself this is...those games. Its very simple ask
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