breaks and travels to a nameless end. the wise and gone released.
remembers most the separation of her philtral columns
and then the rest fills in around it like sand against banks.
all he's known of her seems shaped by slow and rolling waters.
it's her name he's holding onto, whether she's existed or not.
she is a banner, she is a walled city. folded pages in books.
from plains of onyx to obsidian, he walks his horse and its flayed ribs maplessly.
loved her almost to death once. he can't release his ghost from her crypts.
mammoth and catacombed, his heart drones out a sinking pulse,
numeric and sentient.
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