Glottal
Inky bands of spider-scrawl
Trace across currents of stone.
A city wrapped in sleepless energy
Unfolds,
Like a bandy-legged cat
Below timeless cliffs of uncertainty.
The sunlight warps
And once again
Gaia rears her head.
The world is cast in gold
And I
Am cast in gold with it.
To bask here would be sin.
There are no words
That can shelter the dead
From their ignominy.
A thousand souls could shudder here
But none would hear them,
Cloaked in limestone
As they are.
A word raises purple and the flowers blossom
On the mount.
The city sleeps again and I sleep with it.
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