I share a bed with a man
of the same name and disposition,
who reads no books
but webtoons, watching
as a janitor with a besom battles
falling leaves in a somewhat crowded school yard
of his bygone youth,
collecting whispers of a tear
unbefitting the dusk heldentenor,
while masking the fact that we might be dead by tomorrow
with the occasional convenience
of myopia.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
hidden pilcrow 