where Georgia O'Keefe hung a skull across the sky
and then another
and another
until she'd filled a year of skies with skulls
or flowers
one at a time
so we could examine the details of bone structure
or flower organs
without butterflies
and underneath those, on the ground, life went on
walls crumbled
chickens found food
but no Daedalus prepared to fly, no Hades to kidnap
the world we know
went on and on
except for that damned skull across the sky
and whatever it meant
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