i grew darkness, i knew
how to grow it. i had a little
lamp and shit if it didn't
break. wait. here's another
handful of the stuff. wait.
i knew dark was the color
of the hare, it romping
through a field carrying
fire on its back. a mountain
erased there after its tracks.
the picture takes its time
coming to us. i knew that
light and the waves it traveled
on. turbulent, not sea-like
at all, or deep. the tea leaves
said we'd end up dead or with
each other here. a wimpy
rain come dragging the ash
to still. a burn in the palm
where the dark calls back.
i knew that, too. it grew.
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