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It is when the first shoddy rays of light fail to reach us that we finally look,
Never do we see what is there until it is gone,
Expand that, look further then
One can see what is gone before it is there.

In the time where the sun’s last rays skid off our cement landings,
The shadow of an aged lamp post begins to fade
Grey replaces what was once there
A blending of elements succeed
There is always something before nothing.
Then there is no shadow,
The time when the sun fails and the moon forgives
We tend not to examine this time
Nothing is there; we wait until the moon can spread its borrowed light and create multiple grey shadows
Now we barely remember what came before this moment
We tend to ignore the lack of something not first perceived
We divulge, connect and define, yet we only sink deeper
Its your choice, choose.
Be terse, spread, and calculate
Look, does the lamp post spread its shadow?
Does it define any length, or calculate the various multi-verses in which all of that tender light has traveled and what has been given up just to be here?
It has gone for you,





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