after "The radiant point" by Megan M. Garr
The passing blazes
Does not fast
Enough. Look up
The wind
Along the lines
Might get
To everyone more than just
As concentrated
Storm and Prussian
Blue, vermilion and white
Equally near to shadow—
The sound
Approaching
Onslaught—
Every event is this
Every night this night. Burnt earth and even vermilion—
Every arm incorrigibly composed
Upon the solar
Gesture, every gesture violence gray, moving
The radiant dome, the stars
Do exit
Swallowed
Into muscle—
Every history
Is this
Hand perhaps
It opens out
The flesh sings wide at the new
Architecture, holding
The execution
Together
What can I do with such small
Children on my hands?
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