False Shining

I watched until my eyes crossed/because, as if for itself alone/the sun broke into two dizzy oysters /made of dried blood./Grey, eluding me, I moved over to make room/for clouds passing over/in sincere attempts of wan winter sun./As if playing with my eyes like this was some small pastime/a moody vice in a region where they hold me on trial./On board steamships, where one takes pride, at sitting still,/amazed by the yielding,/ unsurpassed but submerged/in the depths of the sea. I suppose I can still hear beads rattle/ over corpses of sailors lost/but for the weight of the deeds they’ve done/they could still pursue pastimes of their own. Those dizzy smears merged/ in the surety given /by the black mask of the waters./We cast shadows under different suns, /whirling, dragged by many powers/in short breaks of heat./And in the heat we live with/blackbirds swelter with us/candies float loosely/ in the pit of our stomachs./The crest of the joyride, ends on a boardwalk,/the grit on our skins/sun on our shoulders.

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