The Wandering Float
Time is
The wavering ghost
The fresh pour of cement
Your cousin's dark side
My own best intentions
The family of cardinals
The bag of doubting marbles
Your mind's lawless parade
My anger shoved into the sad compartment
The act of changing one thing
The moon's lost rings
Your evident gladness
My hide-and-seek gratitude
The watch still in the box at the store going out of business
That morning in my dream I've yet to have with
Your face in
My hands
The wandering float
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