The Rest of Us

Bodies in late afternoon.

When the sky bleeds sunset into the back against glass door under rustle of palms near boxes to chill the neck trained against attack and fatigue of keeping this impulse near keeps heads heavy in morning on bodies so long theaters of war under constant command to move and move out, a sudden stillness may sing.

Author: Stacey C. Johnson

I keep watch and listen, mostly in dark places.

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