Burnish
This is now uncommon. And therefore brittle sheers:
To burnish is to
raise the carapace, the doorknob, the letterbox, the concierge who
gleaming in the sun, turns to sear. This gilded bone. A “we repeat it.”
Did not reflect our faces. Or those of any we knew. This is a nameplate. Affixed
to a doorway. No, to a door. Answer: there’s no one there. This is decor; a thin layer of gold that shines in tune. A leaf on which is added one to
one and one.
It’s a name “scratched” “thereon”
if I raise a finger
and say I’m not at home, please; I may for once
No comments:
Post a Comment