alas whose body
at toe is ochre & gold &
crisp wrapping paper

you could not last the year

i will lie down amidst you
watch the sky
an expectation

jesus christ
holy comet of fire most bright

the participle of man’s desiring
arrives to hydrate

we have never met
we have never stopped meeting

so i wait in your bones
till even these coals become dust

& some grey janitor
turns us into cloud

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