as yet untitled- by Richard TrotterCan we gently destroy
the infant spiders web
that grew too fast around me?
The shards grow into my eyes
roughly smoothed by your smile
digging deeper, the hole I began.
Snapping myself like a biscuit
I throw the longing wrapper
into the fire but it will not burn 03/20/2006 Posted on 03/20/2006 Copyright © 2025 Richard Trotter
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