open to the realm of time trapped lovers
latching onto tendrils of sentient rain
climbing out of pools I've given
with the urgency of sculpted blood
these train cars are transparent plastic boxes
a skull of frozen ink
weeping tears of wax of labial altars
up through the frame of ozone
with a silk chute and a lightning tongue
all the fire of these frail connections
spent in ruin while the pages run.
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