the murmur of
crooked wildlife
a mirror of ice of
arms of
glass of drifted
animal darkness chasing
through cruel grateful
dreaming sleepless counterfeit
bloodless architecture soaked and
hollow
when removed
a hand disturbs when awake
like a stranger breaking
my concentration
then
refocusing carefully
temporarily
for the most miniature
moment to try to
find in them the most
rudimentary trust
cold blood in
a voice in a very
small machine on
a street in the
sun recorded by
a security camera
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