1855
6.28
28.i.25
falling from the
floor
for the dream diary
the ways down are many
sometimes a trickle of stairs
ship’s lost
where find
offing storm
a corner round
tonight the sea is closed to us
a maze of decks and bunks
such was time
a planet rise
and whim of eye
sky too full of holes
a sieve
a swerve
sun’s beam foretold
all upwards of this
the day parts
poach of egg was I
and back where we were not
flash towers take me up
ships of some space within
and on
brought a flower to this too
won’t you?
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