and time will follow
where wheels lifted
shed tongues
and falling apart across
the world
a body of tongues
which entered through
the sun
and burns as bright
as wind
cold harmony of
ice song sinking
under small seas
persisting days
hips of lawns
and mouths to toll
grey bells of interior
now catching the throat
now catching the dream
of breath keeping
quarters of rain
from the crossroads
a seven-limbed crown
gold as hyena's
laughter
lovely in the turn
of the stitch
the world is ending
just begun
and strife a wind
behind it
some curtain will be
drawn
across the sheet
some eyes where
roads once met the
sky
roving in the gulley
coyote's pause
magnificent
gallery of hexagon
blankets
silver bee horn
stretching to the chest
sternum of green lava
beast of the hand
grown still
still grown
and pallid
whose copper nails
are polished
before entering
the lights of
the soft womb
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