Coyotes
In relation to the time of asking
for a second sky
I refer to the cloud
I am turning into
an infinitude of forms
of sand in glass
purities I count within you
The difference between
what the body undoes
and every airborne urge
silkworm ropes
of ghosted thought
Nothing can be untrue here
our long hall of agency
a coliseum of crickets
where we stand
on the wrong sides of a window
light snakes around the jaw
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