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Cleromancy in Static Simile
kissedt of the crowning morning inviscid.
here the vice locks against the ceiling
& our shipwreck strums its Ahab surge;
here we fist the double-edge of believing,
& jinx the jagged semblable of our love.
the heart is built of sensual machinations.
the membrane axis stirs the madhouse.
casting bones for show upon shoals of mud and stone,
casting the strata & the driftwood of our blood,
fagged & mangled in the composite blending.
let me be so broodsome, O Absence !
the heart parts, plucked and bandaged.
empurpled encroachments of the zodiac blush to blackness.
here the motor-head lurches, extorts a primal seclusion
& i watch whole kingdoms of stars implode fastidiously behind us.
again daybreak recoils. unconsciously,
the City looms
like a beautiful construct of terrible fury
& glides glowingly
down balustrades in glacé bloom;
and here your lips kick quick as concussions
under cool hibernal moons
& so slowly i
breathe in again the chill
and static haze of you,
like a memory without a key !
or more like (one might say)
the hollow of a blade
bent to drink the ink that you bleed.
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