What is, What knows
What sees is not what gives
We know because the mouths that form words are not the mouths that are hungry
but they may learn to parrot, en masse and en miglio
their cracked hearts darkling, to fill the void that grows outside their houses
the perversion of their vision
There is only enough air to breathe
for those of us whom happenstance has left apart; or those who like the birds know how
and when to move at the prickling cold.
The rest is a frenzy of confusion and pain,
as sticky and mute as the sickness of lost pressure
deep below the waters of the known,
where no light can see the horrors wrought of iron and ambition.
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