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Mortal Geometry

The prick horned stars

drift in the spiral arms

of galactic motion.

On the sea-ribbed sand,

a shark offers up

his pale belly with its

wide-lipped wound.

Caught in moonlight,

a man picks at his sheet,

murmuring a litany to ghosts.

Above him, one star

implodes, dust threads sucked

through the eye of infinity.

Mortal Geometry: Text
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