tones are bookmarks in my neural library
pulling tastes of dusty passions
cataloguing manuscripts of same story
cementing with introspection
teeth grinding, clenched
toes, fingers bent
eyes inverting
stone shapes drying
preparation for - final thinking hour
to walk through finished halls of
galleries with art - dear to this slowing heart
and outwit chaos with silence
analyzing fragments of my
bodily experience
lonely flights on windy bridges
noble quiet southern sun
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