in your annoyance!
as in an I owe you.
If banknotes and credit lines
could connect--function
as heart strings in a sonnet,
insult would lead less to
injury than to stillness felt...
here.
Eye! O, you--
for thine own pleasure is this wrought
not unlike molded peaches or one-liners
(tongues sticking through glory-holes)
still, heart strings in sonnets
work decidedly unlike bank notes
or lines of credit; Forgone
in flailing indeterminacy
though intimate and intact.
(perhaps just a matter of taste?)
Then, laid to rest here,
done away with--in timbre, in tone,
and in crossbeam.
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