under the glass dining table
as the sun passes by
creating and destroying spaces
we have only accumulated
into matter for a while
as a barrier against sadness
is built or a dam against some
flood bound to rearrange us
but not to be carried away
or get enchanted by
material freshly emerging
from the stitching of millions
of tiny invisible elements
under uncertain conditions
we misrepresent as ours
our river our time
but to get intelligently lost
and sleep in a strange bed
and wake among stars
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