Cicada Song

1 May 2018

the thin atrium of your body
dry as crepe paper

wings flat on your torso
a leadlight map of nations

eyes sequined solar panels
reflecting silence

husk of you in my palm
how the sea warns you

its long-rumpled muscle
pounding on full drums

as the sunspokes beat down
hard upon your piercing song

old shriek memory wailing
through your empty body

the relentless cicada wave
endlessly arriving

the one thing wild enough
to roll against the sea

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