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Over my blanket –

translucent but heavy,

a bronze blizzard


– the bell voices

are ringing the drawings,

the fragments of cosmos.

No, not the couvre-feu,

and not for the service –

the immortal of our maternity –

a symphony with no notes-

unknown to us,

who know nothing of ourselves.

The bronze voices

cast from Siberian nickels,

Italian liras,

shillings of England

fall from the bell tower – the sky,

over my blanket –

translucent but heavy,

into the amphitheater of my bed,

the matrass aches

in vibrations,

the bellringers continue


my roof window

the blizzard

seen between Taurus and Gemini

in metallic brown



*Painting “The Leap” by San Francisco artist Elly Simmons