Living room window is translucent poison.
But window is not a window,
window is a mirror reflecting squirming I.
Writhing inside the skin, present
a solid person
pondering existence events
prove or disprove depending on
euphoric qualities, or numbness.

Ferocious alternatives: here, or gone?
god is in a window that isn’t a window.
god is in a mirror “here, or gone?”
he asks. Naked,
speechless, I smile
god’s needle pierces slowly.

Turning in the window
backlit infant, cold-cracked lips.
god-stung child in a picture frame
lifelessly gone, in view for women, men.

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