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i think too much sometimes will never be unlearned
of what has frozen
as if the known bricks and alleyways
the prisons we make
unto ourselves of the cold complications
were the only reality
and freedom flames were nothing but imaginary because
this is the way the world is
this is far too much the way
it is for us
to dare ignore
the Moon as she lingers near in the tides
shaping driftwood
i will take to configure shrines of clandestine
veneration
simultaneously with all
the world slaughters
tonight burning meaning
whatever it is of us in these silver flames
that is unspeakable
and consumable and so tenderly
remains
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