Theoretical Physics

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the clock in kitchen
read four thirty. it’s morning.
i’m standing on the

balcony outside
your apartment, with a cup
of tepid black tea.

the stars are too faint
and i miss their bright shine
in the nighttime world.

you once explained to
me that we only see old
photographs

of the stars. frozen
by light’s inability
to travel at the right

speed. physics, the math,
i could not bring myself to
understand, believe.





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