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HIDE-AND-SEEK by Alex Schmidt • Cleaver Magazine
HIDE-AND-SEEK by Alex Schmidt He hides under hot lamps and sandpaper eyes. Lay your wrist on the sidewalk. I can draw chalk in your veins, father. Whatever we are turns the corner, frozen despite his friction, friction despite my icy eyes thanks to mother. A pressure that’s bonded my mind to hers like the bolts of this bridge but over his void. Father, wait no longer and wander further with me to the felled park. All lands must wait their wait for a green of crops. A mystery exacted only until its black blanket smother of wall a distance between father and son. And now its time one of us admits we’ve already arrived. You burgeon into peony as air unfurls its density, warmth, puff balls. Rather, father, let them around your pedals. Duck back away into the trees, close your eyes, we can hide differently this time. Alex Schmidt holds … chop! chop! read more!