Paper Cut

Flank and furtive
glimpse of deer,
antlered bone

bereft of velvet—
Swatch of brown
soft as the blur

of powdered moths
that beat upon
the glass.

Mercurial time edged
always with dusk,
you wear me down,

cut me deft: each
year a rivening,
my likeness

in silhouette
to lay against
the years ahead.


In response to Via Negative: Scissor, paper.

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