Wednesday, December 18

Bear Trap

Caught up in your wires, a copper cricket in this web
Each tug on the lines an echo into emptiness
Fabrications become collusions;
No more pretense.
A doe in these deep woods, soft hooves on leather leaves
Approaching the twilit glade where you wait
Silence rich with downy breath;
Cock your crossbow.
Lock-jawed creature, dappled in fa├žade, a voice in a void
Clairvoyance is an annoyance, sensing the iron
Teeth before they meet through
Tender flesh.

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