14/Rosary of Summer

The world
calculus point in space
is the burial urn
archeologic box
of figures

that designs the shadows of our
ends & origins:
Where do we begin
Where do we end

The law—human,
material—
is about us, like a chain of ice:

Seek as always equation of exit
Close coda of entry:
locus between
like rose twixt skull’s teeth

Summer
the cat’s cradle O witchcraft
ancient:
yet what if
no cradle be?

The world is the center, periphery
of our wrath
&
love

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