2067
6.240
28.viii.25
the astonishment
things persisting
from the dream to light
the map,
as of day made
a word
beaten from just truth
traipse,
eyes up for
the city
of clouds all packed to travel
purpose of
a river
the bud
from fruit with
what is
given to dust
the mouse
away
orchestral
lapses
grip of
just one star
so much
persistence in a body
tangling
to dot dot dot
the fond
remains
a page
untouched, say sky
the wings
of the thing in flight
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