Night
0 night
consecrate me with the dews of your silence
distil from the ripeness of your stillness
incense for your altar.
O night
lay your leaden blanket gently
on bare breast offsprings on my slab
shroud the swish of the knife
in your secure secrecy
from the reluctant gurgles distil a symphony
to drown the owls' protest.
O night
stay with me awhile
while I gather the shells of semi-selves
discarded in the mist of your coming.
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