In the clouds. The canyon walls
Are simple things, cracks and stones.
Nothing inside of them wants
To help you or to hurt you,
Even if they enclose shells
And bones of desires as keen
And unkindly as your own,
And as pointless. Take a breath
On the small ledge of this poem.
Everything around you falls
Together around a star.
There are no natural laws,
Only crazed, cracked tendencies.
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