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This arcing line
we know
this line
as it rises away
crests its charge
and begins to fall
gracefully
then lands
ungainly
I have no idea
I didn't even
write this
Nobody hears
anything
  I love you
ever
Someone said
in my head
about
my poetry

Gifts
Having never seen
the next line
Some version of you
accreting
stalagmite be you

Some version of you
inflaming
coarse-ware are you

Some version of you
concluding
am-ending by you
flesh hostages of mind
ignored ache in signs
well what did you find
signaling low decline

flesh given up on its
compass its direction its
falling down its grit
and i think this is it

what's it I fallen in
hi recognizing kin
and this immoral din
the cacophony I'm in

can't see around when
in dark water pens
its trial-ing rants rends
nothing so much as ends
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