Trevose by Chris Harris


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Confined in vain
Along each road unturning
Straightest to the cultivated dream
In truth by its deception

In your eyes
The chiming of the tower for the day
In the sand
Everlasting running down

An arbiter impassive
Siding helpless in eternal reassembly
As time with supervision itself
Stolen with the darkness of the blind

In your mind
The dying in the living of the lie
As we fall
Its faith unsilenced

Remote
Like the daughters in the garden
Complete
As their purposes divide