Closing eyes, As if stringed...

Closing eyes
As if stringed,
Free
as if untied,
Loosened...
Like a song...
A  chant made
By mind
You me hears
Like a Burnt Mars
Across the night sky
So rained...

A Mars
A burnt reddened color of brick,
As if galactic
You me hears
Across the night sky
Cooling every time...
And spreading too...

As if You
The String
Free...
As a chant
Borne light...

And
me counts
The days turning nights
And nights being morns
And morns being noons
And noons becoming evening croon...
All...
And
me gets printed by cutting edge
As if they are all part of deified clays,

O
How they be get
Songy
Like opening of a flood gate...
Small time
Of the Big...
The lying 8
A Loop...
A lemniscate...

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