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my becoming has come back,
come around, so evaporate
slowly, again,
the watershed torrential
where, between us, is no space
a limitless difference
in a downpouring of starlight
i scout the fall-out
while tracking our progress
sliding slowly beneath the
sonar
the implication of coming
together lost in
intent concentration
and, porcelain light
slanting between us,
we, short of oxygen,
free-floating-
we are utterly stunned and alert-
knowing ourselves despite
being sheltered to one another.
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