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I am the ashes of at the bottom of a promise
a widower clasps her hands in the watershed
there was a burden in the cargo
you carried
waiting for greener blood
in the smokewood
the bonfire slowly peeling back
its alchemical gaze
distant flames ascending canopy
after canopy a seaside freakshow
of flinty toucans diving toward the waves
isn’t it strange pleading with the darkness