the sweat came mostly from his back.
He fingered the stitch that made him him,
then signed his name in the mirror,
cast in steam.
You can do this, he told his eyes
over and over again.
You've overcome worse.
The C in heart,
the S in the reflection,
the Y in pants,
clawing at his groin.
The heavy R in his hand,
the D quivering on the trigger.
Next day the papers lead,
blaming it on the pressure.
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