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La Piccioletta Barca - Issue 16

Without you, I could not have unlearned
what night imprints on us.
Old musings lumped beneath the eye;
sharp teeth where sharper truths
had hurt familiar inflexions.

What I know of you, I found in friends
with whom, for seconds,
you would share the muscle of change,
loudening jaws churning the seasons.

Sometimes, you dangle to my hands
like clockwork.
Hang from a wall, having seen.

If you had not preferred
the matter of things, we could have met
outside of thought, outside of this diurnal crowd.

Somewere in aquariums of space,
before you fell
under the skin of strangers.

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