The Skyscraper

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In my naked windows -
Pale paintings of concrete harmonies
Built out
Of chaos
/
On my glassy skin -
Marks of the painful adjustments
Made by the wearer to the costume,
And vice versa
/
And in my heart -
An ancient mountain god
Dancing forgotten dances,
Whispering secret verses
/
To the sky,
Which is no longer
Listening
Or watching