We won’t have the dogs tonight

snapping at our heels in flight

it’s not a lie if you don’t speak

let the beholden chase down stream

sophisticates in blown glass

compunction an empty suitcase

we run with the clothes on our backs

sails of tarmac, bricked to notions of release

gathering in apprenticed symmetry

hush, the prowler of disturbed dream

run for the tarmac road, snaking divide

one hand carrying bag of river stones

divine our necklace by wet of blade

spank the dissenter, raise us worthy

sisters and brothers of collecting winter

brindled in fire, ice edges the highway

capture only his distemper, carve this shape

betwixt one and two, we move in mirage

safety is Babel, rocking us to vivid sleep in

sonorous muezzin, smudging minarets call

withdrawing day in exhausted pleat

for women to scoop their careful seeds

planting moons within reposing deity

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