To That Which I Follow

Where would you lead me now, blind ghost?
We have slipped past the guardhouse into the river.

I have sloughed the blue uniform, surrendered my anonymous body.
I have left the catastrophe of daylight stashed in a sack, turned my back on it.

Listen: I assent, I assent.

What immolation do you offer, what cure?
What lover in torn ribbons of wind, a dress of water?

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