of incarnate thought
their pretty shells of armor
casting light like coal.
Loves remembered in solitude
like a polished knife
the webs of many hearts
in automated struggle.
Two set apart
in a volcanic rift,
brought so close
by clashing earth
they meld into
a blindness of each other.
And the mortal branch
and the mortal sight returned
going somewhere deeper than space
and sharper than time
with a delicious
crack.
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