When there is no
poem in a starless night,
I search for a water lily. I follow
the long radish roots into a deep
pond. No light. No life,
but I hear my heart beating.
I want to breathe one more time.
Then the water beads
rise against gravity to the lighthouse.
Plumes of iridescent
dust fall onto my legs. I stand
and watch first the moon,
and then the earth slowly
disappear into the dark matter.
Everything is like crushed
green eggshells in my hand.
After the small particles
cosmic explosion swirls.
being a part of it.
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