• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 02
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Mourning Meditation

When the rock takes
to rising from the dark
ocean floor and the stars
have reached consensus
about their orchestra
of shining, I’ll begin
the pledge of gestures
placing my hand above
the object that we used to call
a heart. Press it hard
against my breastbone
snapping ribs with too much
pressure, making exhalation
painful until the washing
of the light.