The clink of cut-glass disturbs
a silence I held by the tip of a
a silence I held by the tip of a
string, & beads of distillation
form at the fringes we had
captured in a prismic-cage, I’m
led through corridors darken-
ed with a flicker
of intimation...
of intimation...
Yes, we had taken part in that
vast remembrance, spanning
over the course of some immeas-
urable gap, flashing in a pulse
of light across waves… Evening
spins, I see coins drop in dusk,
& my life, a show of absurdism
at last-light... Green of moss,
& my life, a show of absurdism
at last-light... Green of moss,
glaze of daydreams fading in the
evening...
Time ellipses, a
lengthening road spirals from
the stones.
& so we take in
the astringent air...
I see sparks
I see sparks
burst on the pavement, & im-
merse myself in churning-waves,
the silences we found behind
our lives... I
think of all that
had transpired, the cityscape
flashing, as I return to myself...
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