Time Line

Now it's done; the direction
of a body shoved through time.

Gravity, the stress of beauty,
feet walking barefoot on a bed

of thorns, muscles of a mouth
tense as rope, the optic nerve

gulping light, beads of light
running down its fleshy throat.

Look back. Pull the reins.
The clock is running fast,

very fast. See time run. See
it burn. Here is the shadow

where we were born. Here is
the tail of light curving

through the sky. There,
at the end, the teeth

of total darkness
devours its offspring.

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