Denude (10/24)
Under the inscriptions there are bricks - uneven and ugly
cracking - there are pieces on the sidewalk turning to dust
The thing about inscriptions - that enraptures - infuriates
is the finality - the supposed enveloping intelligence
the bubble of space around them - that space
is fragile - is a film of soap over a wire
A bending universe that stacks itself - possibility and emptiness
It all pushes into one small spot of time and melts into foam
We cover that spot with stucco and want and desire
The houses in our minds are creaky with it - haunted with it
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