in Poetic Prose


I know I’ll see you standing,
still that statue that I molded in my mind to kiss,
so beautiful you’ll never move again.

– The Weakerthans
It was walking on an overpass at night, watching lonely trucks on the highway below. I went back – but only in part.
Then it was sitting on a picnic table in the rain, being glad I wore that t-shirt. I was trying not to tremble – or smile too nervously.
And now it’s standing on a rooftop while the sun rises. I know this feeling now – but the answers are still missing.

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