Blue Fly
a blue fly in the sky
hovers like a raft
over the malformed desert
the sky falls with bodies
the eye cannot meet the eye
the sand is all over the sky
the sun is a smoking gun
belching out the last spasm
in the throes of an early death
the raft moves near the pass
beating the wings of retreat
the sky vanishes from the eye
the rock rises from the dust
limbs are finally assembled
in the figure of the rock.
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