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Cross over

Axis // axiom.

Ask me, and I’ll stand in the joint, gnarls of old trees wrapping round my arms.

And here we are: in the hinge.

The middle part that’s truest. Dark wood, dark wood.

Candles all around us, of course, and some trees.

The hinge between lament and what… ? I can hardly hope for more.

Turn of song as cormorants beat against the bay, on wing.

Were they wings or trees I was lost amidst?

No–dark blood, dark blood.

Years that fell into the spine, the center roaming.

Time’s on a break as days overgrow.

The little routines that made us feel safe.

While all along, celestial math crumbles in two.

Adam // atom.

The tree outside my window tiptoeing up to bloom, bud’s edge teasing.

And life flowing endlessly from its arms.

Point by which we know.

To cross over.
Posted 04/19/21
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