The Chord


Courageous lair “might prevail”
Waking up to her your “yellow coal”

Steals a its way

Harm’s imbrogliatic murmur
To concatenate

Has been “said”
A mortal habitation or cut in air

That air leaks through

Here too

***

Tricked again out of
Hope’s chord

The oscillatory hum in the head, or
Amygdala

Continual reaction in the wet mouth to
Old oranges, or

Mistakes in form
“I retain a clear memory of afternoon light.”

A vertebra unfolds its wing, its smallest
Wing, the pleasure particulate of such a wing

(harp’s corde)

A our mycelium


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The Chord