Breadcrumb #177

ANDREI KOZLOV

oceanic zephyr           petrichoral
              and instant coffee    diesel tenor of
freighters in Manila Bay
our linoleum room is garlic and talcum
and the permeations of a never­closed window

hills around the city ignite
a thousand distant votives to commemorate
the nightly devastation of ever
being known again by darkness
you splayed above the sheets in my t­shirt
bathed in twelve floors of violet halogen
from the call centers and karaoke resto­bars

I will leave never knowing
the hills’ exterior gaze
a cataract of lightless water
eight empty trucks leave the city
a storm rolls through at last
in our kitchen the roaches thrive
despite our rituals of ammonia
and scattered laurel

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