Dove Builds a City in the City

A winter wind gusted
Dove heard it, rang through the archway

Her dark veins pulsed in the frost
Til the blood boiled over hope

Cracking the paving glade
Her crusting eye fixing on the mist
the dirt, the sand, beneath the skinnings

Crystals poured from her lungs
Piling growing strata of symbol
searing martyrs to the brickwork
Resolving, concrete sinnings
Shimmer towers, seeding.

Dove heard all this racket crash and scream
Extinctions kept her good company, and she knew it

A winter wind blew
Dove heard it, and said
A winter wind taught us to dream

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