what we know is not · what we know
as the flesh slides · from the bone
this saffron light caught · just where names
cease & this flame's releasing
chime somberly near
in the werewolf gulfcairn
wounded dernely runelord
attends returned bronzing
tunnels under the · hospital
"...Death does his work
In secret and in joy intense, untold,
As though an earthquake smacked its mumbling lips
O’er some thick peopled city."
--Festus
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