a single branch dusted pink and wrapping around curled in a circle
ticks counter clockwise around her moon
as petals fall and scatter
she's coming
as cats call through the fleshy oak evening
as this longing has displaced itself in your absence
as we sit cross legged in fields of misery
thinking
through the thin stages of our bondage
your image treads the unsubstantial space for a moment
then drowns
watching as you grow smaller in the cool April haze
ascending
to join those howling stars
in the thorny
still
shrieking sky
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