Meridian Johnson Souvenir Said

Searching in another city for a face just like yours I wake and the ceiling droops with cobwebs some spider poisonous leaks strands of web and weeps when the sun strikes the weave I am captured a pillar of dust and sun one grain of fine sand blowing gone to the breezes on this island on this mainland everywhere I am blown apart like a war and I think of nothing to myself just that I am a hammer lying still a tool waiting for the carpenter’s hands nails and wood forget what I have said beneath these ceiling boards it was love I threaded through the machine my body—it was priceless

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