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The Admitted Closure

Tom Blood

the start had of winter, closure
antelope winds

we could not stop the tape of life
to figure out if any sound was bees
as spoken around us

after we slept or stayed days away
we found a blind limb and the motor of the car we slept in

we struggle to cry across the desert
quieting two fires that became one
as the blind wrestle

we hadn’t talked enough
and any misstep will be lost to the trains
to when mice search through us
as reins of trees pull us in parts

we pack ground for mole mountains
where gliders loose in escape of no guard
silently hilly alley narrow walked, ascension

part surrounds and part holds
simpler than just mouthing words, statement or bridge
I forced a word open in hills and halves
as mirror or machine conversation clam
I built a tomb around me,
cruel to my own tsar heart

roses, carts of orange garment rays
as an asp, I take breath

we separate large unquantifiables
before a building or an empty space
a summary statement reciting outside
wind and spider where the mind holds
a shivering state

maple leaves the well like spiders
of our days gnomes got in
and buried where bears lay water
staring in fields beauty and frames of mint wind