A
rougher skyline
slit and
stitched up the middle
emerged
from a rain gown that morning
sullen
and strange and removed
from its
blue.
bent in
the face
stark
with truth
And
between each stitch lives a battle cry
broken
to bits and branded.
every
loop of threading
a knot
in the
voice of thunder.
(with Calum Foster-Bayliss)
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