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Camouflaged

 

Falling behind near the surface

small velocities of me drift up

 

between the time delay of light

& the cadence of your devotion—

 

a rotational bluff of sorts

my dreams split wide & wicked.

 

That’s the place where is hides,

That’s the place where if shifts—

 

Everyone knows brown & tan

cloth won’t keep you from getting shot.  We wear it anyway.