the grass marked molten with horses' hooves
that fell eloped and rotten
like our foreheads against the wall
our finger splayed across the ceiling
our voices and calls barked back across the lawn
we saw with eyes that were diamond dark
we felt with nerves that were vacuum and void
we learned to love with the black balls of glass
that hung suspended in our chests
when
under tombstones of glass and steel
we buried the dead in land that's no longer there.
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