we meet ourselves in the morning
when nothing works
we shake hands
with shadow
and disintegrate
there's a long sigh here
that punctures vowels
and the curtain turns its head
to wink at the restless sunrise
restless for the promise of expanse
we climb into a hole and
whisper one to the other
and this goes on for some time
we ask ourselves the same questions
repeatedly we are one moment amused
next moment horrified by the vagueness
and it all hinges in a lump of dry smoke here
as each consonant is punctured by a curtain rod
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