grabbing in the dark
cold lamellate skin

burrowing
beneath the house

in a row

after the rain
billowing

all around
every direction
but behind

scent of sweet
mixed with smoke
and wet

whistle,
crack.

sirens.
horns
screeching

near to him

a lonesome wanderer

snapdragons revived.
a pair of wings exploring the gray
down to the filter

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