shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Dorsía Smith Silva

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Union Station

Have you seen the ghosts?

Their faces are ceramic jars
with holes and blank pages—
erased, peeled, then dropped.
Their bodies poised in a galloping life
sprouting like cracked crystal by default.

Said the tourists:
They are ruining the benches.
Can't someone do something?

They pull the exposed blankets,
bury themselves in forced folds of fear;
And then the morning comes,
for a witness
of what is not abandoned.