Sunday, November 03, 2024

Roads that climb across the valley
washed by rivers, scrubbed clean
by the grains of blind bodies
as ornamented trees rise
from a broken spine
and painted tongues lash
from painted faces
I follow the web of water
suspended in the wake
of a fleeing sun
the carrier of ropes that run
up to their cranking pulley
with a robot's face and fish teeth
the glint of a barbed wire wreath.

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