Ficly

A Farm By The Sea

We are small
Yet
We are it all

Wet within dry skin
Combining when
Sweating

Like a mountain
Of smirking surfaces
Lurking in the murk of purposes
We breathe and leave no traces of escape
Upon the landscape
Footprints pockmark under pond’s
Landmark

The flue has strewn soot across the lawn we lie in
Denying the fire alarm— warning us we’re dying
Because that siren’s always on
Our conscious islands

We can’t have wept in our steps too long
Or the past will infect and intercept the right future for wrong
Yawn, already gone, but wide eyed here
Only to have died?— that thought is not insincere
Though wrought with an objective perspective
Those that live say this is the sinister seer
But who hasn’t seen the being in the mirror
Fleeing by the year
And said “administer fear for strength
Adhere your tears to a clear mind and thank
This life of undetermined length”?

The sun forms a warm body
Ahead and beyond
The yonder farm
Near the sea
Where you’ll be
What you were
An infant of the infinite
Reinvented circular

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