four paths

what i crave to say
pulls my gut down
like a goat-bladder
full of smooth river stones

(it could be that your
song requires you
build a new instrument
or sing in an old tongue)

“either conceivable way –
if nothing exists, no one
could comment on whether
that were true,” she said

what i hunger to hear
tears me exquarto
across the corners of terra
but i can’t find the poles

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