...
' Un coup de dés n'abolira jamais le hasard'
O my buddies, buds of light
indefinite beyond the rising horizon--
how close are we to our outline's dissolution
in the final shore's tender collapse?
Will we stumble through full recognition
in the threshold time before
the void's absolute, unhinged embrace?
A coward's futile rehearsals
improvise a partner in the mirror
yet all action draws its arc & blade
over the shoulder, in shadowplay screens
I had dreams like muted echoes
that refuse to fade in the unmeasured west--
how far along this track might
they guard, nay, prod my passage?
What is left? What is done?
What is right? What is gone?
...
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