Monday, May 14, 2012

Andrew Burke

Skin Thin as Paper

One day he wrote a page
a style not his own
sex and a hint of danger
by surprise out of wedlock.
“I hate old skin,” she said.
“There’s no way out of it.”
He thought, part make-up,
part obligation: a thin map,
main character, tangible roots,
recovery, dis/loyalty. Options
blowing in the mind,
knew for old.


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