Seeing You
I was standing just so when the world ended,
landmarks returned to water, a crumble
of clay and ant spit.
I was walking through your head, the years
a clutch of heathen gods,
lit oils.
I have taken the time
to extract the seed heart of light.
Notice, how readily it becomes itself,
first shadow, a shaving of dark grown angular, then
winking brightness.
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