Notes About The Poem
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Clockwork of Longing
Cobalt dusk gathering in the bevel of glass
the clock inhales
Latent summers folded inside the rings of time
a whisper
Orbital memory returning to the same absent address
the same blue window
the same beige chair
Cadences of ticking, small hoards of disappearance
something remembered, something remembered
Keystone of silence:
If every year returns, why doesn’t the lost hour?
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