in the irrational afterworld.
I multiply the silences within me
but then they fill with figures.
Their eyes and limbs light up
with the symmetry of Earth
rough hewn in its untender circuits
bone with its mask of flesh
holding bone to bone.
Still I hang on to pages
crashed by music
and the last great
grinning ballerinas of entropy
wedding rosary stones
to a seamless sky,
their pierced authority
akin to mine.
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