
Concrete breaths mark the next phase,
stone upon stone laid roughly in the earth.
—
Pathways to the stars run only through water,
where twinkling ripples melt repeatedly.
—
Reality comes in a steadfast sunrise;
gold absorbs but never reflects.
—
Such metal circles require greased extractions,
but the only pig fat comes from me.
—
Dead now, this aqualung heart submerged
in deepest darkness, bottom of the trench.
—
Tomorrow’s just another day, they say,
but who they are remains moot.
Thank you for reading
Richard

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