you lose her in a chapel, early after
noon to the shrapnel of a sun
whose crown folds in like a flower
devouring oxygen
and you know that she won't make it home
the sky is fire, a corposant's tail
on the chapel tower
heralds an end a long time turning
about in her eyes
and you just want to lie in the grass for a while
as the stars burn,
and clouds burn,
your heart
cauterized
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