Tuesday, June 4, 2024

Nothing That Night

It was breathing.
Everyone swore
It was breathing,
And we were camped

In rare canyons
Beyond waving
Consultation.
The comet rode

In that still way
Of all fast things,
Just smeared up there,
As expected,

Except it breathed,
In long slow breaths
Of light. We slept
Nothing, that night.

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