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Inan Omaha Graveyard

from The Theater Was Rain by *spandrel & The Trash Pile

/

lyrics

the moths are back: skittering along telephone wires
the moths are back: tracing a wounded trajectory
the moths are back: disappearing into asphalt gaps

I collect glass from riverbeds
and insert the shards
into my ever palpitating heart
the junk in there looks blue
and keeps it shape like thawing ice

in a room swollen with natural light
she looks just like the last one, but paler, paler
she rested her wings flat on a bare white wall and I lost her
I lost her
I opened the windows –
the thin air at this atmosphere will impale her, impale her

credits

from The Theater Was Rain, released May 21, 2021

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*spandrel Columbus, Ohio

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