You, Beautiful Anon || Tracy Horn

Most poets secretly believe
they run on heart-break,
so you have to watch yourself
when a poet tells you that they love you
especially, with their eyes or through a gesture.

When this happens you should seek out
pockets of resistance, scan the horizon for
possible escape routes, remain calm.
This may not be brief, this could hurt very much.

The poet wants to draw the click of vanishing
heels across your path, would like to offer you up
as blood sacrifice for rain; but understands
your ambivalence, and hopes you come round to the idea,
for great poems die laughing from this lack of courage,
their veteran ghosts stalking hope with a pen.

One old soldier sets up camp in your heart.
You only know this from spies, and from
the bloodless trace left in the corner of your eyes.


I remeber really liking this poem but now that I read it now, I realize how simple it is. But I still do have my loyal influence and favor on the first stanza, it may still speak to me a lot. But literature isn't one sided, there are a lot of things and experiences in life that can instantly change one's path.

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