• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 12
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A Map, Elaborate

I recite
                     a poem within a poem
without
                     reading the letter, the envelope
                     sealed; my early hours require
sound as
                     drifting through sky, I am
                     curious, or reaching
my
                     blue veins like a map,
elaborate
                     echoes that bend back
                     and insist, or eclipse
words
                     or carve language, eons
                     into the ether, or
curve
                     contours like water, tapping
the atmosphere
                     on a backdrop
                     against a backdrop.

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