MAYHEM
Issue Two – November 2014
ISSN 2382-0322
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D.A. Taylor
Untitled, or: Quaesīvī
I watched Dresden burn.
If only you were among the ashes.
I’d hoped to follow your dance steps
through an old fool’s
dog-eared diary.
Inches away from death
and still
I can’t find your fingertips.
There are consonants
on the table
and a bottle of vowels
in the fridge.
I’m a pillar of salt.
Come home.
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