the merciless arc
this syncopated march,
and the everlong
creep of the soul,
where i left you,
vanquished and warm,
out on some salted shore
miles and aeons hence,
hidden in a smile,
a suspended glance,
does batter me back down
hurled through the ages,
and just across town,
driving to meet
the company we keep,
and thereafter run
and rush on toward that
sempiternal song,
a sepiatic fade,
of wonder
and the sea …

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