• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 11
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Surface

That night, tiredness fell awake
into claws that cut words
out of a black cloud;

they formed a dream,
bulky and slow,
but untethered

like a whale on wet clay
carving its path
among an old memory of moving.

Half a bright moon
was enough to form a glow
around relief;

immense wildness
wrested from teeth
that could cut the air

clean through.
Now the leopard slept,
soft, sharp, lambent.

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