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Able to believe only the spectral voice
We heed the dead, or else distant whispers.
And a voice, to be heard, lives apart.

God’s voice, therefore,
Resonates most strongly.
It enters us writhing and shatters our bones.

Or the stars’ gentle moaning,
Ripe with distance and time—;
And how the wind bites into your neck.

You wouldn’t survive
Penetration into these ribs you press against,
And so you’ll always be external.

But these words from your mouth—
They thrive there and grow
Like all surrendered, separate things.

All these things
That have drifted my way from yours
I carry in the cradle of my torso.

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