If you come closer, said the bone,

leave your hope behind, and 

your hopelessness too


there is room for all 

but that

in this mossy cathedral


where what sustained 

one leg

now serves another


for even if a stopped clock 

still tells of time

while your nearby heart breaks 

like a bone


the moment you are calling 

the end

knows not its own name

and waits for no agreement

not even your own


but loves even this,



as it turns 

to what feels personal 

and creates with it



asking each of us,

as the ancestor:


are you not also

being lived?

Categories: Uncategorized

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