A shadow lashes temple bells to my arms,
laces ceremonial slippers on my feet
like a new-born corpse.
Amber light from a street lamp slides through
shuttered windows, circling like the
vapor trails of a dying sun
skimming along razor edges sharpened
against the whetstone of brain cells
14 billion years in the making.
Something shimmering hovers above,
a small seed gently carried within
its comforting heart.
Forms seen only in dim reflections transform
to reveal the longed-for home where
all endings begin again.
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