From "Blood Poems for the Death Penguin" by Zeylan

Phantoms of the eye, mystery          

Phantoms of the eye
Rain.
Solstice -
running from wind
    leads only to wind
And she cries
Night.
Whispers of moonlight water
hushed by the cries
Enveloping slowly the browned carcass
The crimson bone
Silence.
She drifts into the twilight.

Mystery
That of divine sound
would that she see
    the notes rise
    from my lips
And form into the
words that
    cut deep and say
Goodbye.


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