ON DEATH
death and, without more, is an excuse long
a hoax set,
because that meat is still in your flesh
and know that I look, the touch
remains ,
that there is a faint sigh into the granite,
an echo is filtered more
Beyond the sand,
a voice that whispers that after Mount
no lights,
that will be waiting with open smile
land opening suddenly to find you. Owned
Delta (Visor, 2004)
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