this buzzing silence
holding its breath - sweet
the arvid murmur of
last skythes
smoke wed to glow
coupling with the
dying sun that perfects
the sleep of clouds
the undevoured light
ebbs to sustenance
in the fissures
of decaying dreams
embering to the lip
of a nomadic sky: earth
from which my voice
escapes
eyes sleep in soil
fruit ripens
in the vacant lots
of solstice
heat recedes
light escapes
through the interval
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