Daring To Breathe
I recall everything in off-white detail;
the days are caught in slow grinding cogs.
This past year is already all ground-up
as fine as any mince of hope,
a dish that will be served tomorrow,
cold
and tomorrow is shut mouthed
and speaks not.
Nevertheless I will peer
over the rim of past nightmares,
pray for peace and sanity
somewhere, anywhere,
almost not daring to breathe.
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