Bound In Fissures

Arc lamps eyeless lights on etched seals on red boxes of raisins /there lay a pistol,/felt so oddly about discovering /rainfall,over and over/not only for themselves, others/ swear by attacks on shimmering beaches. /Satisfied, its enough, when/ I can see life as lifelike./ It looks like every prayer, a portrait combining /all glows from Ohio, every basin /steeped in gold /possessed in a spiders’ network.

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