The police set about their work so tenderly! Like dolls built to simulate laughter. Like bells, they watch the space between themselves, not us. Its milky white. Their whos and wherefores have been smudged for our enchantment. Once-upon- their-bodies steamed good and stiff right into those ruffled blackcoats
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Look, I’ve already ruined it
or it’s ruined me.
The dawn I see by doesn’t need me
like I need it
and any extra letters it brings.
What we call mountains
is a deep violet strip
narrowly rising and falling over the green.
You might call them clouds
and be right
or hand me something crisp
call it money or flowers
and set it alight.