Sanskrit handshakes
A thousand meteorites
Stabbing
My cheekbones smooth
A woman’s peach
The boundlessness of dirty
Coalesce behind the barn
Succumbing firmament
Squeezing every last drop
Of the principle
Beneath the lens
A spare molecule
Synchronized to the metronome
Tick, ticking, tock
It passes through me
With each strike
The hidden old man
Unwinding the eternal
A dormant advance
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