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Thursday, November 24, 2022

Number

The number of dates

Ever proliferates.


Each, pinned down, waits

Until all are done —


One and one and one.

We wake and sleep and wake


Without the slightest break

In the dropped mirror


Of each memory’s error.

I remember tomorrow,


Waves of it, row on row,

Just within my reach


On this particulate beach

That myriad suns bleach.