2224
7.32
1.ii.26
box of
disappearances
some say house or under hat
the trail of crumbs I leave
a frame
climb out in
sinister
to measure for it
not yet not yet
I’ll burn first
and time, that which with
dust
first wear the world
the box itself is a vanish
at large
trick of the light to know
cracks painted over
every day higher to climb
jack in jill
if hill up
tumble
flourish of arrow to show
that’s our own magic
and after bed’s edge
speak the truth
a pinch and a punch for
today
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