March 27, 2017

Echoing past the strongest
I'm no devotee of virtue
Nor nurture or need
Wallop sharp at the split
Tiger strides across exile
The half-adorned landscape
Trails along in silence
Beasts are the only
Companions of the extinct
Foreign to the creamy jolts
Of waves and knees
And other soft conversations
Grain is the face of everywhere
One hundred shadows narrow
Into no-man's darkness
I am picking up, closing in
Rage of the absolute and real

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