The eye opens, the apprehension of the lid
That rises deciding what proportion, what
Angle of light to engrave in the pupil:
........ Last night the world flipped
........ A tattered skirt and the wind brought the smell
........ Of rotten thighs and wet sand.
The eye blinks, follows spiralling paths
That spread words without regret, without meaning.
It captures frames:
........ This morning the grass exhales brown
........ History of stones, cages of bones drilled
........ By wasps’ knify thinness, reptiles’ catacombs.
The eye rests on a dinosaur’s skeleton whose proportions
Blur the horizon, whose tail whips the sun.
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