Glass is Inanimate

Kind tears, outburst of a session,/strips the world of echoes/both smeared on inanimate glass./Last night’s occurrence lost in memory./I turn in my sleep,/watch the headlights/absolve myself of trespass/across lines of parallel trees./In lotteries unknown/I choose my ticket/by the sovereign sign, born/as a burning image/this gamble as fast as meteors./Let these cards fall facedown/the happy childhood of life’s best bet.

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