• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 09
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When where it is we’re going, stays still

If I
         turn toward
what light understands I
   will forget
how silence
recalls darkened
   mirrors, their
hallucinating hands
     dressing and
   reconfiguring what
       my mouth only says
     facing east of my
         venerations. I can-
     not contort my spine
       away from the allegory
       of this hour’s fragmentary
         teaching. Covered, I
         contemplate: this
           is the worded braid
         taut within angled
             hands, unable,
           as with parental
               precepts to
                 unravel into
                     winged
                 independence,

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When where it is we’re going, stays still

                   into what would
                                           Vines' ontology,
                         varied
                               self-awareness

                   into what would
                                           Vines' ontology,
                         varied
                               self-awareness

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