From Grace

Have you been pulling faces,
trying to scare off winter again?
I’ve always thought it simpler
to frighten off a spring.

And if you’d dare to tell truths,
you won’t have to tell a lie.
I’m like that watercolor wife,
but my water’s all gone dry.

I lose myself in pulling threads
the calendar and clock.
Trace the lines around my eyes.
Trace lines around the block.

My hands are in my pockets,
but my hands are on your face.
Let the devil’s mercy
save me from unwanted grace.

(Please don’t catch me
let me.
No,
don’t catch me
let me fall.)

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About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

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