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The Auspices

I Ex Caelo
Thunder roiled in my veins—a thrombosis
unshakeable. And you, warm-breasted echo,
watched idle. I shook my squall-marked skin,

a soiled cloth, swept and wrung myself under
the black-pinned night—each clutter of stars,
another stain to spill over.All this portends

windstorms, chill seizure of sickness. Vapor
of feathers unlatched from their bird-gods.
Stay: reflection, bright idol. I will undress myself.

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