My Eye Petals

1.

Circle pulling circle, 

Surging with slow intention, 

These two vortexes, 

Which make my endings. 

A first thoroughfare for the world, 

To pass through.

2.

Lounging upon astral mass, 

Kept aloft by rage, 

My eyes drip, drop, 

And little feathers fall, 

Like moulting birds’ wings, 

Growing hard in a hard wind. 

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