las bellas bitter tardes

treble tremble clef pulls
the head cradled to one side
on the spare sun concrete
taste my last october sheeted
soft lipped and arched sung
gentle pressure
in the cracked
sternum
far from the madding hush
by the glacial pond dusted
for dear strife put aside
in the hunted
humanity of no clear moment
putting two and two into a box don't
add it up
whisper sweet nothings
like
winter won't hurt our hands