In a forest where they drive off the tree trunks
and carve the light
It must be
You must be

To open the wound
To write in its blood - with its blood
means your realisation through her -
the feel of her absence, like a sail, within you
as you near the secret of existence


a distance remains that sets the mirage ablaze -
a step to cross the absence
by contrast
creates the path, unfurls the flags

Chance -
flee from intuition
Senses -
draw near doubt
Vessels - too narrow -
Imagine the dialogue between chains
and bloodied ankles,
the conversation between shackle
and wrist

Hurry, naked ones - take pity on me
cloak my superstitions with drumbeats and incense
Chant, chant
Proclaim your ghosts
Ignite in celebration
In mourning
In mourning
As an omen

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