You begin to sweat, for hours the way these stars poke through and everything has come true —it's a knack you learn quickly, pulling up small stones —that’s it! afterwards you bring back those same days as evenings that no longer say anything, the darkness is enough, lets your fingertips pin down the Earth, hold it drain it—afterwards you put back its night as once and never again though your shadow too falls from a sky swept away for rain and your hand wider than usual, gone. |
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