The Custody of Time

A frail memory floats in
turbid waters of absence

reclining altogether in

satisfaction, undone by the cloister
of whereabouts

moments later, a conversation
about monuments and semantics

reveals more than just words
it’s as though conception has taken

a front seat in this house, this
wanton disrobing of submission

so it goes along
-chaos-collected-

managed forethought only
long after the discussion ended.

 

© K. James Ribble

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