Atlas

A pebble that needed no support

no ligatures between firmament
and
firm ground

Are we reaching
or digging

Is this some new titan
holding up the heavens

How long until the bough breaks
And
down
we tumble
down

Brown bones
of the world
Bronzed but brittle

Did He merely dream
Was he only hoping
that there was some weight upon his shoulders

Because what if not?
What if it was only
open hands
and an indifferent sky

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