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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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