autobiography

out on a 
limb    limber   limbo
the flexible dance in a waiting place
  on point between two assemblages    now  
    (and past)  and
        future
tarot shuffled  and let to fall
  where all foretelling   is fiction  

there is little  more forlorn
than empty shelves  maws open
hungry for books

the chapter
of this thick book I’ve been reading
  for years now
  about to be read
pages   still uncut
on the  next
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