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kesil's Journal

Luke White
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Ph. 718.208.0172

Evelyn murmurs the rhymes that she's written
In dark desert canyons; melodious stars
Assemble themselves into great constellations
Suspending her ten million sandstone hewn stairs;
Evelyn lingers on L's that illumine
Veins of dark gold streaking light-metered hair.

Evelyn murmurs the names that are written
In washable ink on her winter-pale hands;
Rinsing herself in cold streams from the mountain
Cut deep through the canyons, she shivers and hunts
On hands and scraped knees for a stone that is shaped in
The name that she wants.

Evelyn summons the reams that she's written
And folded away into sharp-angled birds;
Uncreasing the seams reads the letters she's wedded,
With scissors excises the best and she burns
Wings of pale smoke, whitened
Words' hollow bones.