please do not reply
a month ago a glint
now two thirds my leaves bagged or blown
a four inch fluke
muffled by the basement door
plsdonotreply pings their box downstairs
then txts my tickets closed
thinned imported top soil
a canopy of swamp maples lining subdivision streets
the silvered spine is still exposed
uprooted sucking air
I should be thinking lies instead
rear-fanged the Texas Lyre
bites clean through the concrete wall
won’t release its grip
can’t digest the strings of glass
torrenting golden bits
the lies that bind you to your stories
like white tape
swaddles my ankle rolled on landing
after heading clear the cross
you ply to please