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Reaching the Star's Sadness Fade

"The most beautiful order

[says Heraclitus]
is a heap of sweepings, piled up at random."

How weave? How we've

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written it over

The story written over against it,

Overwritten as well, melancholia

The electric went out. How angles weave

That open-necked shirt becomes you so.

So you become a live-wire as when you can

Move off the frozen mourning. Weave angles how. The

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How weave? How we've

gotten here

Zigzags, a lapse, align. We await there

An enactment of tight-fit statutes.

Roll the way, the brief play of affects all across

The room and this flick of

How straight weaves hew the line against it.

Feelings loosed in the company of those

Whose sorrows weave straits how?

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How weave rags? How we've

been woven -

Weave the pieces back to gather, to exploit, or to grieve.

Rags weave how? In the midst of life,

Sorrow, in the midst of sorrow, life. Write over

Overwritten melancholia

Write out, flow, loosen stricture

And moves out beyond language becoming

Into its own as? This is How rags weave.