The years and days, important with tears,
blur to inconsequence; the exegesis
of the way conceals each stillborn
turning. The varied strands spun
upon the wheel to a single string
sing in chorus as if fate, not chaos’
echoes scoop meaning from the air,
like twirling bats justifying the walls
we lean against, exhausted by it all.
(May 13, 2023)
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