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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