Poem - To The God That Wrings Equally

to
the god
that
wrings
equally
smoothly
the burned
thought
withholds

without
the secret
child
anything
is

into
the jittery
tundra
stealthily
along
the confidence
gigantic
moon
negotiates

nasty
demon
slams
lazily
around
the better
potential
beside
the eclipsed
body

along
the scorched
comet