Time

Agnostic calendars

are great for those

whose lives are spiced

with regret.

On the cutting board,

her right arm.

Home is smart.

Weather is dumb,

beating the bones

out of what already dies.

Scattered,

the months refuse

to coalesce into a year.

She wants what she

can’t have—

a private train.

Her old job

encased amber.

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