by Simon Perchik
Even so it’s the darkness, loosened circling down as the only meal you dead can swallow –a single gulp and you are nourished the way the drowned still cling to a rope that’s not yet an arm –miners learn this, they train where there are corners, taught to feel for an opening in the rock out all alone that will become the night after night –you have a chance! your shadow is already near the surface, draining this mountain for its ashes once they’re finished, eat –everything here is evening and you sinking on and on into the Earth more than emptiness and fingertips.
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