The Diachronic Barber Pole Observations of a Recovering Hockey Exile

Robe’s Frozen Shadow

November 3, 2011, by Homme de Sept-Îles

       nightfall's roses
      soot fell from silk
       bones under, sharper than hooves
       cold as spilt gas

       this smile under this moon
       brocade facade teeth jilt
       lips meant none
          not  stretch
far    rocks splash  across the cold soul ocean
       the one  you  couldn't   see   away






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