and the shore the hunter I with my hooks for eyes
how a sight snags me how it drags me back
ahead sky hugely grey the sea slack
so much everything in which to find something
ammonite more beautiful than anyone could try to be
belemnite belle et bête go on and cry to me
make me stop before I’ve walked forever
how filled the air is suddenly with sparrows
how deafening the blurred machine-whir of their wings
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