Wednesday, February 15, 2012


Nights without dawns
Save the rake of cold ash
For dusty red pearls
To coax toward suns

Starlessly dark
A moon out of sight
Weaves word of itself
On a hard loom of black

Alone—but a thought
Without light, without feel
Pressing on silence
Essence shifts

Turning is building
In soil’s rank give
In blindness so utter
Pale filaments shine

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