Thursday, September 26, 2013


It is moving toward,
it is light and flavoring space,
the reality of death being an architecture

alive and no longer wandering
taken deep to be molded,
hungering only for the inevitable,
taking it within wearing an eerie smile,
shrugging off the transported weight
of many planets, tracing raw movement
with instruments that do no follow,

and holding it fast with nothing limbs,
loving it strangely with love
because love is strange in this world
which was not made by love.

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