Rifts on a Beating Surface

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In a black forest, the sun stalks the moon and
The moon glows with love of the earth
Alone.

There is music asleep in the crevices of
Your pockets. Your hand jingles the notes,
Unwraps clear paper. Your head rests
Between the humps of a camel, but
This is not about you.

This is about the sun stalking the moon
In a black forest where the moon glows
With love of the earth
Alone.

This is my attempt to wrap time in toilet paper.
Time is wet and heavy.
I tried to drink time, and
It swallowed me. My heart became the ticking.
The clocks on the wall are too loud.

All of my being is phantasmagoria. I think
I hear thunder. I think I hear water falling
From the sky. If so, then I am the universe,
and you should start bowing, now.

If so, then I am nothing but the black forest
In which the sun stalks the moon and the moon glows
With love of the earth
Alone.





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