Be Dusty

We speak in lashing tongues fixed
Up with enough spit to clean off
Our dusty window,
Can we see?
Can we see through?
The lashes turn to brows
And they are all beat,
Every stain, each ornament
Picked and put and put in place –
We speak in a cracked whip of
Quip and quick coupling. This.
Our window.

Might always

Be dusty

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