These snapshots of your life
dissolve like marmalade—
sweet with bitter chunks
that linger between the teeth
till the evening fades.
I’m still picking rind
from my teeth when
the same, but different,
sticky bomb drops.
I want to finish the last bit,
but instead, I’m left wondering:
If the Bible says to wear life
like a loose garment,
why do you wear yours
like a straightjacket?
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