Link to website updateNausicaa 364
This is a different stick
One with a hardened meaning
A stick that kissed us with a
Darkness meant to offend
A mountain that fell asleep during the telling
An extra squeak from a bird dying
We used this stick to speak
Of meaning and evening and how
It is wrong to ask secrets of the
Little eye.
The night now takes our extra troubles
And flies away into the dawn
We are called to take all our reason
And make it into little teeth
With which to eat our crimes.
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