but the truth is in the wearing away,
the wearing away. Diminishment.
A popped boil of the species
and its centerless limbs.
Look away from the annihilating wall.
Believe the erasing banner.
Still the loneliness of death calls
not like a dog or a wolf
but like a descending dove diving
in hunger to coast the fertile surface
a prophet with a sealed tongue
driving veins through sand.
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