floors go flowing to pupils of lava
points descending to the core of earth
in ornate catacombs
carnal art in its descriptive spirals
winding rivers of mortar and stone
linking masks along red lit corridors
stairs of reconfigured bone
doors with doors and latches with latches
rind of echoes that deepen
and sharpen against uncaught time
blind mouths singing from a lake of lime
root shaped tunnels with windows that look
into the soul of the dirt
peeled saints on a bed of cinders
torn skirts of the blueprint that hurt.
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