Staircase

fingers’ extend
hard of hearing
marble

as a canary
cage-clutch

what’s beating
eating inside
breathing,

it

thinks on a
throne, a golden
chair,

faceless

it stares, black
eyes for skies

in its skull,

it stares
as stairs
unwind

at

what
we
can
never
know

walking
on
a sidewalk

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