the tide leaves the tortoise on the highest rock.
dear life, where do you go?
the sun sets fast, the light turns itself black.
the winds of the cosmos blow star dust
through their egg-shaped orbits, and again.
some get closer to each other,
some of us get farther and farther away.
Spines of infinity pound ceaseless dreams
toward the center of the center of love.
on a cliff, far from the red, raging womb,
the coyote sings to the full, risen moon,
songs sung for the purpose of singing songs.
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