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Jan 2020
night boxes fit in to

one another, too big and too

small to come of anything.

yet contain sleep.

this blood kept warm to hover

over.

this mouth breaking open when

stuffed with silence--to call out

some urgent matter.

that echoes in the Minoan labyrinths

of waking ears.
Onoma
Written by
Onoma  NYC
(NYC)   
110
   Juneau
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