I am here

Dreaming

of wastes gone by

and your eyes.

I am leavening the course
of my winter
each stroke seasons me to know the reasons for my failure
and for my keeping on;

each monument to my disasters written in the water
turning around my face
as I drown

What have I seen?
What ocean dream above the waves, the sky
matter, and firmament
Newton would plot the wrecks of the chiefs
plummeting from the sky
the calculus of mars, and his many guards,
falling away from the earth.

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