In that corner of another Moon
where Yodabund realized her voice
Turning cursed words to light
A poor girl who
In bringing forth words
Could make the world itself brighten
Like noon sun
after the wind sweeps away clouds
in striving and chattering
sanctuary
The place collected beasts
rushing clamorously into season
agreeing to supper
inside the bricks
as late as the night is black
She would break the Myrmidons
Make Orpheus panic and lose his breath
Her psalms could split atoms
And though her spirit was horror
It radiated unyielding warmth
Giving life, pitiless, to a place
That hated life.
Alone, she brought forth
his face, swelling with claws
became jealous of adjustments
torn in public space
which chiefly characterized
five interchangeable fables
to make up every mythos
longing to avenge the melody,
He consorted exclusively for admiration
casting their affair
among the murky segues
of her silences
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