Time whirls around me
like a dancer's gaze.
I'm in the haze of echoes
that are lost, I pay
for all the drowned minutes.
Caves blooming
inside a ragged mountain
are all for me, I drink
from the split moss.
The spring of tangled water
is alive in undirected violence.
The rock is not departed
from these slippery paths.
The sand far
from the tide that lashes
lands in letters
that are never planned.
The ax head moves
without its wand of glass.
The wrath of stasis
is a frozen summer's catch.
I am the mouth of jeweled cases,
the trash eating to become clean.
I am the thread of order derived
from all chaos, the spiritual
extinction of math.
My dying is the dome unformed
lit up in a flash.
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