Circle of Pens

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Suddenly, seemingly wide awake,
he shot upright,
indignant and
demanding to know
where I had hidden them.
“I know you know where they are,”
he said.

And I did.
I could see them instantly:
these pilots with
smooth, round heads
like sleek bullets
in black and aircraft grey-
standing straight
and head to head,
making a cool cartridge belt
of possibilities.

I shrugged him off.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know,” I said
and slid from the covers,
left the bed:
still see-through and half sleep-dead.

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