All the hands

Moons reaching out to grasp fingerfulls of nothing

Not even a handful of time's fair heartbeat

Silence after the Word

The empty drawing back futility breaks the dove spines

Anchors them to the Shrieking Rocks

Fingerfull of lost equator spilling pentameter the rhyme binds

Nothing nothing no thing nothing nothing

All the hands

Moons flinging out to scatter fingerfulls of nothing

Volumes of Empty meaningless blank phrases complete

Silence after the Word

Upon awakening shouts cruelly echo from the slums cries

Drowing like hawks no silence yet breaking

Fingerholds of shudder and in the darkness some

Light beacons

Something Sunlight

Held firmly

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