[4]

T H E  K I D N A P P E R

 

He followed, crept slowly

With both hands

Inside me, an ambience

Unraveling

A man

Stalling in the back aisle

of the general store

This life

I had a thought:

How smooth lines turn

on a map―

First, the rough and beautiful

Six-fold lake of the dark patch―

One could stall there.

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