If lighting strikes today
I will breath rust deep
its electric crown.
I will flip my hands over
face my palms toward dawn.
I will toss my shoes
into the windswept river,
press my ear to the earth
catch the dead's whispers
in the web of my bed
while the sky is sliced
in two by the knives
of luminescence, fractured
cores could truly fuse--
I'll be so quiet
I will know you
haven't forgotten me.
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