supine
dead moth trapped
in the lantern room’s
aseptic fulgor
overwrought
words
too long
thought
turned prosaic
alone in this
infested station
here where I lay
my mind to rest
blowfly fresh
a torrefied
shadowy macula
that lamp now eclipsed
my stark umbra
chalks the hills
black smudged
“memoria in aeterna”
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