I’m looking for you with a heart
frozen in broken glass,
passing like a storm
over every place wherein I think you’ll be.

These days I don’t see
quite as well as I used to see,
but they’ve made great strides
in optometry since I first cut my way into life.

I was a knife you know.
You made me, so of course you know,
and I know what I know is hardly sufficient
enough to be called knowing.

One minute, it’s snowing,
the next, all of creation
is swallowed up in flame.
One minute, this is all a game,

the next, the heavy hand
of gravity lands square on your jaw.

-r. miller

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