Accumulated notes

The secret to lying is concealment
a girth of memory —
to feed “facts”
to a trusting consciousness


You perform the ultimate act of solitary devotion
deep on your knees, bent to your holiness


The clouds coaxed the afternoon into an early dusk
the day’s promise reduced to a sliver of sun on the carpet


A slit in the bedroom window blinds
across the way, a woman backstage
preparing for another workday


I swept up your legacy this morning

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