the unsheltered shuffle nameless
a spider twitches a web in the corner of your bedroom
memories run like rabbits with pocket watches
for all of you, the rain in your bathrobes
a face of a loved one
wakes you in the darkness
while you fetch breakfast from the store
you mistake trash for sleeping people
the treadmill perfection popup
a feline purr bites your naked shoulder
sweeping mud as the neighbors curse their children
for all of you, the rain in your bathrobes
a voice of a loved one
rescinds you in one move
while you reset the board
you mistake a pawn for the queen
February 22, 2024
arden briar smith