By Anonymous

chant of cells,
spokesman of blood:
Bring me your key!
In the Calcium circus
the grieving raven
plucks out
its feathers.

Outside the door
the blunted
old woman:
her veins, her bones
become one
with the milk
of the wall.
Behind the door
a girl
– waves cross her womb –
sailor’s delight.

The sea answers
Shells of its dwellers
within the water’s teeth
have built
their own

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