Casting fury 

By the bucketful

Into the late afternoon sky—
What is this long silence

But a hum

Puncturing my ears—
This stinging lament

Of crush and ooze

Where does it fall too—
I’m not sure anything falls anymore

Everything rises—

Larks & high tide

Do they ever fall? 
Not without taking the broken back with them. 

And isn’t it beautiful. 

How much agony one life can hold. 

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