Why not continue
Circling the brutal truth, if
It’s true, if it can’t be fixed
Or erased or made
Whole? Personally,
I’d prefer to sit
On the lip of brutal truth,
Arms crossed on my knees,
Comfortably looking
Over the edge, in.
It seems an amazing thing
To me, our longing
To fix everything,
Us, one species on a stone.
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