Tuesday, June 25, 2019

Oily clouds wrap around
the one diamond, in its only
soft shell.

Long highways following dimples down
to the same torn lake.

Voices in high strung wires,
the flood tide's perforated barrels.

Bedside tables with their quills of spilled light
the eyes in wood patterns.

Terraces decked with metallic curtains
the fast veins of suspended skies.

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