The void: unmade
by simple speaking.

The mouth
of infinity filled

with words: thoughts
encased in the fragile flesh

of sound rounded
and clipped by lips

to travel the illimitable distance
of meaning.

Each stuttering utterance,
a constellation

of fear and desire,

across the emptiness
between the atoms

we are.
Such desperate tongues

of flame flickering
in darkness

to warn or warm,
wound or weep,

to whisper
into the void.

*featured on The Liturgists #28 – The Asymptomatic Fidelity of Words (1:05:42)

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