Hypothesis of one possible fate

~ "One eye sees, the other feels." (Paul Klee)

We threw down sticks to shape 
a rune and counted numbers

burned into six-sided cubes 
of bone. Adding them up, 

we looked for guidance
from stars that were 

no longer there, except for
telegrams of light they tried

to send from out of their
aftermath. We asked

how long we have to live
inside this temple of war;

how many more weeks 
we'll wander without

food or sleep or shade. On one side
of a wall, willows droop with names

of missing children. On the other, flares 
sputter; flies hover over fetid pools of rain. 


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