the cerebral dog digs bones
gnawing on dry masticated
memories
wearily someday
he will backyard them
forgetting
synapse skeletons of the buried past
so they can rest in peace
erudite attic ghosts
still carry
the sizzle in the kiss
when the wetness dries
in window sill dust
then
it will be time
but today
I work on living
in the present
time to stop
splintering bones
kissing ghosts
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