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
—thatís 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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