but what will replace it

but what will replace it

the wings drop from the summit of the table
like leaves of earth
before the lips
it is night in the wings
and between the wings the chanting chains are missing

the skeleton of the light empties the fruits

the body of the kisses will never awaken
it was never real
the sea of the wings cradles that tear
the bell speaks with the head
and the fingers lead us across the fields of the air
toward the nests of the eyes
there the names melt

but what will replace it
in the height of the skies
neither sleeping nor waking
for the tombs are brighter than days

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