Now we snap our phones shut with a clack, Guillotine the last syllables that should have Been left to drift like fine strands of silk tangled Loosely in the nest of memory
To return the receiver to its cradle, carefully, With a smooth motion, like putting the baby down For a nap, deposited sweetly, heavy-limbed And warm, onto her back or her front or her side,
and
Now we snap our phones shut with a clack, Guillotine the last syllables that should have Been left to drift like fine strands of silk...
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Guillotine the last syllables that should have
Been left to drift like fine strands of silk tangled
Loosely in the nest of memory
Oh my. Perfect.
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To return the receiver to its cradle, carefully,
With a smooth motion, like putting the baby down
For a nap, deposited sweetly, heavy-limbed
And warm, onto her back or her front or her side,
and
Now we snap our phones shut with a clack,
Guillotine the last syllables that should have
Been left to drift like fine strands of silk...
I don't see the poet's name. Did you write that?
*is impressed*
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