Saturday, February 11, 2023

The eclipse when she looks away
leaves metal in its shade
and sparkling outline

blue stones colliding
in a lit gray sky
sure footed statues
on a boiling edge

bricks of hot television
tumbling down an infinite throat
stars pinched like salt
in a wreath of speaking fingers

the lines of light cross like heavy rain
her hair and her face are overtaking
the fullness of dawn is a slice
of the firmament's mover

alleys eating marble and rubber reels
arcs where arrows marked the footpath
new floor of her standing smile.

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