the stars excrete
drippings of twisted firmament
the paths of tainted light
entangle trees and grasses
the rubble of civilized corners
where the spirit could briefly glow
eating static from decaying particles
electric vines with many voices
drowning each other in metallic water.
I joke with a scarecrow
I untie many disembodied boots
shelve books with varnished pages
letting the silence eat the threads
that are buried in quiet blood
and unattached sacraments
gone bleating in the chain linked void.
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