Walrus Tusk

Just because a stranger gives
Necessitates none taken;
Foolish misappropriations live,
Strung love from her engagements;
A non-thought, a mere non-touch,
Somewhere turned the quiet ages.

We are not chess pieces chained
To carved unmoving squares,
Whittled from a walrus tusk
Or teeth from Arctic whaling;
Like the Lewismen of Trondheim
In a trance, they’re biting their

Own cages in an everlasting
Curse behind curated explanations.
I’d wager strangers all moved on
While we chomped escutcheon’s bit,
And just because somewhere she lives
Does not mean we’ll elevate

Expectations which weren’t ours
To give, adore, and cherish.
For a soul on paper is not fed,
Conveyed both near and far,
With cables on the deep seabeds,
And pulleys in our hearts.

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