The Topography Course
Topography Course
He does not drop, and I do not drop,
But rise, and rise in waves,
The heat of its tick, the fury of the tempest,
Raging to rise, its rise in wakes.
The sweat pours in each vein, an elixir of Adonis
His immortality, of men in state,
And I am the weather and I am its climate,
My veins pulsing the blood of its river
Selected in imperial tyranny
For a first onslaught and spray of silver
Before its siege.
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