At That Impasse Of Grace Poem by Mark Heathcote

At That Impasse Of Grace



At that impasse of grace
let there just be a blowfly
gazing outwards into space
gazing upon two ardent lovers
in an island-cut-off place.

They're-given-no phantasmal birth-
wright of kings, given only
two-small velour moth wings
of an ochre yellowing earth
that reciprocity-of-a nuptial bed
essential to all nocturnal birds.

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