We cannot watch
the stars unfurl with laughter.
The less I see
of airborne structures, well.
Explain the disappearance
of the self.
If pounced upon
by this, the mountains move.
But faith cannot
move mountains after all.
Obsessions led
by madness, all the rage.
Constrained by
laughter, all we do is howl.
And then – what
now? Will all our tears dry up?
Like woollen
glasses, all your best attempts.
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