by A. Kahn
You insist I shuffle
your tarot cards, notice
I do it like you–chaotic
Our favorite decks
match faded gilding
Crows on our backs,
together we study, pick up
scattered charms and bones
symbolic of my struggles–
they sell me out
You see everything, secrets
non-existent, pain pinpointed
and show me how
to shift beyond
I was meant
to come into your shop
You say there are
no coincidences
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