Four Poems

First Light at Lascaux

Behind my hand is another hand.
Behind my head, another head.
Iron filings fill the hand,
sway with the movements of the head.
A mouth made of aluminum moths
moves in the mouth of the head.
Blue ink flows from the veins in the hand,
tooth wounds open in the ears of the head.
Blight hands move inside the hand,
shaded from the light behind the head.

People on couch
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