in her absence

Pluck pluck pluck pluck pluck at my nerves you five devils
toying at the strings of my mind with malevolent ease

The first finger tells fear
the sun, when it re-appears, may have grown colder

The second gabbles frustration
the zephyrs of my heart storm, storm in a vacuum

The third plays guessing-games of distortion
less heat, was there less heat? in that first shining

The fourth calls the high monotone of waiting
the all-about air like space, horizonless

The fifth mocks with blindness
clothed in turmoiling clouds, a whirlpool sky

Pluck pluck pluck pluck pluck at me devil-a-day music-makers
till she return.

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