Tangle

Thick adolescent throat 
choked on a string

connecting a warm baby held to bare flesh
with a shaking man

on an empty trailer floor.

Somehow the boy 

feels foregone warmth

and a coming freeze at once.

Time folds up and around
looping -
its line becoming tangle.
Everything's at once.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Our world

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