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The Signal Constantin Brancusi 1929

it's about what lays atop
   the ability to rest there
despite a foundation's flaws
we're all      salvaged from something...
 bearing nicks, dents -
a forever reaching      hand
    grasping empty 
space
   click,  a landing
empty handed
 from tandem expectations
     nevertheless, bearings are 
 found/lost
        and there we lay
     able to hear until it's dampened
            'I sense'
  the cool curve of an embrace
      modelled upon the organic 
  you could thread it all together 
                  but misalignment...
does it always matter?
      when it is not a leaf
  not a stalk
        nor an aerial
this is not a tool

    it is a signal for not anything you think
so I won't translate      or read into it
I will discover questions without answers
    settle on not knowing
things occupy spaces
       some things        interrupt spaces
space gets   interrupted
     we just need to carry on looking
but not think too hard

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