Whatever Falls Out While You’re Flipping Around
written by: Scott Thomas Outlar
galactic plasma
the pattern upon which
all crowned decisions
are plastered
the many-hued reflections
from black sky and buck moon
antlers impale ribcage
render me torn open
I will spill my story for you
though I’ve nearly run out of words
watch me dance
as the fool
one more time
before a wizened form
is shuffled out
I’ve witnessed it burn from so many angles
please just hold me through a portion of the reprieve
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