Cardinality and Clock Mending
If I could paint the tempestuous nature of siren calls
and the burden of the beast in mind,
and the burden of the beast in mind,
how silently you slept so still on holiday
in the blue-bloated skin of the sea—
the door unbolted those seven days
I searched, so sure you were here, just away.
in the blue-bloated skin of the sea—
the door unbolted those seven days
I searched, so sure you were here, just away.
Mornings of absence in oscillations without
pale dawn, waking gossips between moon and sea
are those same allures I swear you heard.
pale dawn, waking gossips between moon and sea
are those same allures I swear you heard.
When I brush my teeth thinking:
Undead. Undead. Undead—
there are moths in the mouth you left behind.
Undead. Undead. Undead—
there are moths in the mouth you left behind.
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