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troy moon


finger ice
galaxies up we don’t see
movie that comes full circle no happy ending just get up and knock your chin on the door again
and again;
no money in that

soul whatever that is
chin’s raw and little hairs grow nevertheless, never to get away from this mess
no idea when i was young that i should feel lucky

yes ice fingers comb my porch
heating system inhales

i like the idea of lace; holes,
tears everywhere
you wanted me to write song, lyric, and you’re right, that’s what brought me here, but i also like to sing
against song // who says what sounds like
there’s something like prayer
i bite on