The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Still

Hush me now stilled
all alistening to the caesura
last lips quiver moistened by ontology's tears
desire wanes for a movement, any ugly rattle
to gasp another moment beneath your silvering
amber glow bled into the crystallinity of
the atemporal where your luminance may meander
unbounded and freed to the superrational
physics of an antiboson-studded sky
so I may capture your slowing spin into
my cloud chamber and rain your beauty anew.
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