choke down your pretext


throw a line

a wiretap

dots and dashes make a ribbon

confessions are best said



avoid his eyes

what could be worse?


label me a lunatic and

lock me in the house


i cannot feel this in public


know that if i could

i would scoop out my 

fragile little brain and

let you try it on


see how you are scratched

on the walls?


feel how you destroy



then tell me now

how I might explain

love in any other way


than confessions at midday

and the quiet refusal

to believe the harboring 



By Kallen Mohr

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