Sunday, September 02, 2018

Cliffside mirrors
pond's eye of moon
the spider's sap over an old mouth
pink harvested mountains
gleaming with normal rain,
no cooked leaves
a palace of cemeteries
level stuck to level with paste of living cells
screaming coils in the bottomless rungs
of clay the ladder did not make up
quaking with sand fleas
man shaking clouds.

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