“If Mourned”

Cosmic soup1

“If Mourned”

If mourned, this love permits no entrance, leaves no exit.
From its labyrinth there’s no way in or out; in substance nothing’s in between
For traffic here from the users gleaned, bursting at the seams
For all’s intent and purpose, deployed while still in transit
From one röle to the next, sandals winged. With memory split
These ancient tunes mimic one another but for seconds like moonbeams
Or the briefest torrent of terrible swift lightning that does not lean
Toward simple use or common cause as heartbeats in cadavers where we sit.
Believe us! Here within a matrix whether housed in womb or cradle
Charged in camera with interest or selected tribute from the shelf
The whole of what we are, a single moon
That serves a solitary planet or as that satellite serves a family, marooned
And circumspect for a measured time, and payed out as by a ladle
From a cosmic soup of time in stock mirrored each within the self
Useless as a vision, solid as porcelain figures in a cabinet on a shelf.


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