Handed Over Poem by Sarah Cotnam

Handed Over



automatic friends wont last the night

when the clock is ticking

and the sounds of it ruin the mood

swings follow suit and take us down

into singular cells of selves

that we would never have admitted to

in any other time line

accept

accepting circumstances

that lay out the possible

reconciling moment

that allows the plot to carry on

and keep all players

in motion

automatically



animated



we all have painted faces

just check out mine and see

that i spent all of my time

on an image for you to imagine

and animate

automatically



teeth clenches and all

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