i want to tell you that i too have no wants untold
that i am complete like a snail shell with being
but i sometimes feel left behind to empty
and hole up with sands that come
after the city is ground into its elements
and glass remains a liquid
slow moving
wearing on your reflection
age watching age
where the opening is eventually plucked
with life and the loss of it
and the snail itself
has moved on to find a larger home
though that requires the death of another
in the shelling of war
another who wanted more than me
*
one day
you won’t wait
for one day
but until then
weight won’t
and lean to diet it
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