my name cut birds from the sky,
the circumcision of certainty
boiling, the smoke
of our forgotten streams.
the time held bright,
and the birds shed their feathers
for the convenience;
we strung necklaces from the years
of plumage, hands framed in diffracting lights-
the promise of the covenant
balanced our heads.
the circumcision of certainty
boiling, the smoke
of our forgotten streams.
the time held bright,
and the birds shed their feathers
for the convenience;
we strung necklaces from the years
of plumage, hands framed in diffracting lights-
the promise of the covenant
balanced our heads.


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