Docking

            -for vincent cellucci

close the first note 
divide what divides a reminder 

				netted ghost

little girled in my wanderings 
not left untimed right
scuttle back over time shrouds, wound
the slipped knot binding at the throat
a bit dusty moan tumbles, dirtied death ship

culled from different places but on map
constellate or emptied by same river, banked down
treading wake in the choked remain, permanent
escape, precious at the last take: how perfect
the dead, longed for but can’t make less 
trembling, more tear-faced, silence warm in the glove
gripped glare: she’s no moon, horizonless
thrifty bone hollow down the deepest drum

weighted three stones 
nest of sorrow  
once a boy said, I’d go out just
to see anything else

                          I want everything 

two coins spun



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