#Egypt 7-4-13

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How is it? How is it?
So late
So early
The moths flutter.
The light
Backs forward,
The light of how it is.
How it is
Still breaks
The half-shut shade,
Sun cut line
Over the bed,
The covers,
The walls,
The case,
The coin,
The remedy perched
Among the unraveled.
The culvert of words,
The night,
The magic of
The story.
The story + the midnight,
Each wave darker
+ brighter than yesterday
Or tomorrow.
But that is many miles
Distant,
Many meals,
Many shifts + eclipses +
Comet’s tails shrieking
Past the moon
+ dome of sky.

So long to wait
+ still it is never
Long enough.