James Schuyler
The friends who come to see you
and the friends who don’t.
The weather in the window.
A pierced ear.
The mounting tension and the spasm.
A paper lace doily on a small plate.
Tangerines.
A day in February: heart
shaped cookies on St Valentine’s.
Like Christopher, a discarded saint.
A tough woman with black hair.
“I got to set my wig straight.”
A gold and silver day begins to wane.
A crescent moon.
Ice on the window.
Give my love to, oh, anybody.
and the friends who don’t.
The weather in the window.
A pierced ear.
The mounting tension and the spasm.
A paper lace doily on a small plate.
Tangerines.
A day in February: heart
shaped cookies on St Valentine’s.
Like Christopher, a discarded saint.
A tough woman with black hair.
“I got to set my wig straight.”
A gold and silver day begins to wane.
A crescent moon.
Ice on the window.
Give my love to, oh, anybody.
Thankee linkee.
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