Wean by Rob LittlerI know you best
In the dark black
Of night—how you sweat
Even the most minute
Detail, muttering about never
Having time forever and everything
Else, but the already-pledged, the
Sale-already-made. How many
Times have you made a man
Take aim, dressed in fur, antlers
Knocking like wind chimes—
Playing only if you are the game. 10/31/2020 Posted on 10/31/2020 Copyright © 2024 Rob Littler
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