Certificate II

paper neatly rolled
cold hours of walls
and words
of silence and the clock ticking

stare at the glass
tides of people pass
and pass, 
who was the fairest of them all?
your bitter fruit
the apple bitten in your palm

wave goodbye
to years of rooms and shadowing
to pages' turns and gathering
quiet rage
the raving heart
o flat accolade

peg it to the line
let the ink dry
hanging high in red and gold
like property
Life by Degrees
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