deep time radio plays

reflection ceases (begins(
and the moon's chin balances
upon a cool stone and the cool
presses in

and many cool stones lay flat
against my skin
the layers of cool air filling in
and all the cool in the pressing world
is already flat and flattened

and the lamb moon wool
is fattened as reflection ends
the moon's beginning glows
their severed chins upon a cool stone
cool stones are ceasing in the gouts
and the cool is pressing in

and many
many many cool stones lay
against this skin
the fattened lamb of winter's din
what summer's reason called
'our word' 'our world'
and reflection seizes
stuttering in its beginning
its long ending

the moon's cool stone defending
inertia glowing beyond
be odd
the stones are cool
and the air is laying flat
against the frightened am
and the balancing
collapses

and all the cool
is already flat
the thin cool stones
have been this flat
for ages