Incompletion makes someone
want to fill your blanks in.
— Kathleen Rooney
inhabiting Weldon Kees
years turn ulcer
to scar, scar to fold
lost in wrinkles
I climb cold cliffs
mouth open
to wind hail snow
swallow any kind
of weather
I follow the road
enter the woods
let wild beasts come
fail at speaking
a feral tongue
I cross water
barreling
rock after rock
gravity’s darling
take me, fill me
I’m here to be gone
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