y is entropy encoded (for all the boys in my house)

Image

To my chest

I clutch the pair of Xes

while their odd ones

flare from slingshots.

These petit morts

mushroom

scorched earth

around the living room,

smokescreening sweet oblivion

into my shushing lips.

Even

the veteran

resident

fellow

cocks his La-Z-Boy tweed

in full-mast solidarity.

So I reach

back below my shoulder blades

and unhook,

because I’m burning my white flag.

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