What if I were the one
standing on a stage—you were
below it, looking up 

at me? If it were as simple
as reversing a spring 

trench coat, we would have pulled
those sleeves through
their fabric-framed sockets 

by now. And, still, these arms
would not be long enough 

to extend my real
offering to you.

2 thoughts on “Chiasmus

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