Of Yosef; his lover and a phone

in a web of citation
so your being cut to bludgeones , as with some ritualed

moreover, though you love hers, and its
intoxication; bleeding to the Weimar
and as we take streets and fight, till corpse mount
and the fragile republic blemishes

cuts, still into soot charred lakes we shall parade
And you still love
And you still
Holding dear, so we shall rise before yours and clench
The sabre!