All our threads spindle upward
together, a yarn immeasurable
and tenuous as prayer into

swirl of sky like breathing
marble. Immaculate. And human misery
finds its forgotten heart; tears

fall like magnesium fire
in dark water. The drowning
flame murders us. Shhhh:

Your eternally open mouth
is a garden for birds. They weave
nests of sweet grass behind your eyes.

Their wings flutter alive the illusion
of vision, the world you think
you know. You swear, it is all

there: stone, wood, flesh,
the cruel architecture of time.
Trust your breath.

The world is a resonance of wings.

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