in the drawer i found jars-
with the labels removed
as if stripped of identity.

he sits amongst the ants-
like tiny skittering kidney beans-
"Keep your head level to the cracks,"
dew scraped off to fill the clouds.

the darkness pours in,
on painted posts
struck with lightning-

as the builder picks up a hammer-
tracing his footsteps
through forged nails.

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