Have you heard the long note
from the distant? Talent
should be like that-
effortless.
Blind-ing, beautiful snake,
father-mask. I, too, am
careful of this world-
unbearably.
When he speaks there are
no stars, eclipsed cold house,
a budding cactus thriving
in the desert.
In the course of life, we hear
many lullabies. While there is
still a history of darkness,
damage,
our ears will not adjust
to light. In dreams, his tongue
becomes a field of posies
resting.
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