the texture of the teeming earth
 is all the proof we need of lies;
 each second thought, a second birth,
 the sun, a way to cauterize
 the wounds that we inflict amid
 the casus belli of the day:
 the wager, always underbid,
 the silence, all we have to say.

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  1. Pingback: — No Talent For Certainty – Belleva Worldwide

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