Sequence
You always placed one before two
And dwelled in that logic
Over battlefields of dying dreams
Forgoing the charge of atmosphere
To make ion and scion attach in seams
Of your weaving, scheming plunder.
I now place two before one
And use my two eyes to discern your graft
To steer clear of your attraction
That would sequence to three
And thus count "out" and prelude the fall
Of my battle-torn, tender heart of wonder.
Copyright © Jane Wainwright | Year Posted 2009
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