tangled
by Nicolette Visciano
we always seem to miss each other
as we hide from one another.
i see you come around the corner,
a friend who has become a former.
we wrap ourselves in agony
around the same rotting tree,
but our dance among the clovers
only draws us closer.
we ignore the pain of splinters
growing evermore sharp,
just as we ignore the fact
we are made from the same bark.
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