The burgeoning quiet in my head
is a bullet of memories mulled over—
sanded sharp by the edge made between accident & design.
Shaky red shoelaces
stay shaky
with nothing else I could say about them
to better enunciate this loneliness
sit at a large table,
with three empty accents,
be overly polite to your waitress,
and avoid all attempts at bookish interaction.
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