Cheap Venetian Blinds

My speech is stuttered
My sleep is studded
I shudder
Like cheap Venetian blinds against Pacific winds
That promise warmth beyond the salted slosh
Without the decency of constancy
For hope is sometimes not the thing with feathers
But the bitter rattle of a desperate soul
Grovelling with cuffed hands to twist the dusty slats
In want of more than just a view

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