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wait in room

Buro meets ochlo
and neither yields; instead
there's a steady faceplant meld
of rule with weeping exception.
Christ. Reach me a nothing,
save me a stay!

If you are given pause — if
you give me a bed larger than I need
and heed the answer retrodicted —
you will brush the wrecks of timetables from me,
wash my shoulders of lead,
and see in me hot and fragile seas.

To leave me ungeneralised.