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Attraction

surrendered to the shaft of light
that breaks the statues into rain
two pairs of eyes, hailstones 
soaring in the same gravity,
lock onto each other's old scents
and fall into stacked, icy rhythms
of the earth, a rich red ball
of the utterly comfortable dead.

voices piled in the air above concrete
need to be cut by one.
bodies strewn on the air to make god's senses ache
wait for the one body
willing enough to link all their blood.