infinite anthology: day 219

“Missing Is a Stimulant”

a circuit, bled memory
a séance of the veins, a liquid hinge
Deceit, the tones of dreamed sceneries
defaced by a single face
and yet the day itself is more marred
by these traces of fragrance
chances to fathom her absence
or collapse with the sap of plants
and sleep, and demand of a jasmine-scented face
How are you still so fragrant?
An object at a morgue or an organ

— Jeff Clark

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