Westwind

Every Day

Genie Cartier

The days are
             divided into

the hours that age my
joints,
             the same hours
that keep me away from
you,
             that separate us in time
and age.

Every day, the same;
             the minutes
that coincide paths
the same
             minutes

             that mimic random
patterns of meetings
             and discord, but
fall again and
             again
                          into the same
             spirals of hours
and days.

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