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when i look out the window

when i look out the window
on a night like this
(wild clouds and starfish in dark pools)
when i look out from a darkened room
at the pale stretched-out shadows of the dead
their faces elongated cross-sections of time
passing by in a confused semblance of scenery
and in the oracular voices of the dead
i hear the out-soundings of my own
washing over the silence of a night
repeating all the faces i’ve known
in a weaving of circles of circles of eyes
of reflections of some thing
i could never quite define

like my attraction
to the dark side of the moon

or a song your body brings me
freshly gathered from the sea

  g.s.de burca, 22 january 2012