upon my simulacrum
the grinding of stricken light
dissecting uneven floors
a rain of tongues on sand.
Stricken with straight lines
the blossoms tangle and unfurl
their greatest glory
stung lilacs reeling in sap
concrete exposed to lunar forces
huge curtains of captured clouds.
This hologram's embrace
reels through its hollow phases
dries out the raging sun
and paints the sheets
with films of a cosmic coil
descending down in blue.
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