Smithereens Press Chapbooks SP9 - 'Kodalith' by David Lloyd | Page 11

Fields
So livid a gleam along the rim.
White winds descended from the
Shattering fields, runnels groove
The mantle, the folded slab breaks
Down the gradient. Numbed
In the song they sing, lay down
The possibilities: flesh knits its
Meshes into the grain of the stone.

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