mirror machine
A frog forgets the size it needs to be
for god
to leave
it alone.
Your silver
absence
lives
on the skin
of white-haired
infants.
They say
over a bomb
good
bomb.
Wind and hair
grow
in the blood
of loneliness.
A frog forgets the size it needs to be
for god
to leave
it alone.
Your silver
absence
lives
on the skin
of white-haired
infants.
They say
over a bomb
good
bomb.
Wind and hair
grow
in the blood
of loneliness.

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