Just this morning
you offered me a cup of sleep
in the house where our bodies
first became one in the other
and our howls were those of wolves
for the celestial body,
for the fullest moon.
I can't pretend to know anything.
Just last month
you spoke of cosmic catastrophes
of our sun expanding
of our seas boiling
of waving goodbye to all we've known
and I wept because I desire to live
as long as the world itself.
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