As cryptic as an undertaker,
a blue-tongued lizard
makes his way along sun-filled alleys
between older graves.
He is the sleeper that awoke.
He is the afterthought
of a boundless star, emerging,
burnished and slow,
when even death has moved away.
He reaches a clearing -
the beginning of palomino clay
dotted with the frosted shards
of pulverized vases -
but he turns away,
thinking it better
to work undercover
in tilted tombs
where esculent snails
hide their planets
from the makers of big religions.
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