To every glow a stammer

I have an emotional need
some kind of lucid strain
a sin for every mouthful
choking up a lucky crane,
making for the hour glass
running faster to refrain.

A sigh that has no end
at every corner and every bend
another broken falling
another crying rend,
empty sounds of knowing matter
and nothing left to mend.
Its a high, a caressing smother
a height beyond what’s grave
reaching out to stir no other
and or no ground is here to pave.

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