2018-01-19


[That]
--Leslie Harrison 
That this is the morning in which nothing much 
that the sky is still there and the water dresses 
accordingly that only at night does the water rest 
vanish from sight that the stars are too small too far 
to register there that all our names too are writ 
invisibly on water that abiding requires more hope 
than I can possibly acquire that hope is not a thing 
with feathers that hope is a thing with a fist a thin 
crust sketched over oceans that hope is what despair 
uses for bait come in hope says the water's fine 
that hope is the blood with which you write letter 
that start dear sea dear ocean stop asking so fucking 
much that hope is a telegram delivered by men 
in pairs men in uniform a telegram that says missing 
stop that says once again presumed lost stop


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