Fawning
Jake Hajer
Fawning frumpy;
A little backyard fruit tree
leaning over.
Crumpling pastel
in a cracked trunk
with nic-knack-heirlooms
fungused together and
broken apart, only through
throwing.
Hiding in shadows between
trees like hanging dresses.
Dancing hapless of step
ending when no one
cares, which is to say
glad to have called a cab home.
The bands drunk
huddled and hoarse.
Twirling for a spinning
room as manipulative
as an accident.
The deer-like animals thin legs
distracting spots
Prancing over as violently
quiet as a still dropping
Bomb
Eyes lighting up for
A dropped head
My breaths wiggle
with her into the
underworld of impossibility;
Where things can no longer
be let go, but must be
broken free
My little darling,
wobbling flowering fawn,
were just embarrassment away
from love.
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