Sieve of sky, heap of bones
the words hung on stars
the riddle written in stone
a single thought from furious iron
all the way to petrichor
this reason unfolded like a flower
a thousand lashes of civilization
each flinch a cave in and
a confession, fists by
the handful dragging the ladder
down to heaven through
the night filled with livid winds,
this ache an empty made of dreams.
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