See the gentle curving
            where the road narrows there?

         Where the row of stone ends
            the cliffside falls away.

         See the gentle arching there?
            Our world, too, disappears.

         Take a moment to look
            at the sloping ground near the trees.

         Where the evergreens stand
            the sky begins its fade to black.

         The horizon slips.
            The sun shines through the sea—barely there—then it goes.
               There it goes.

         I wanted to begin that way.
            The night grows once it starts.

         I wanted to begin,
            with plainness.
               The flat tones.
                  Then this: night.

         It is a memory
            of some nameless lost night
               worth having.

         The phone call tells you where you are and when, then goes.
            And a lifetime sometime ends.
               A pulsing blur remains with you the world over.

         Give yourself that blurred night
            and after passing through, you clear it.
               You hear it, now sharp and ringing.
                  A memory has changed you.

         Walking on that road now,
            The curving cliffs restrain you.

         Feel the cliffside rocks, their skin.
            The day is moving and blank.

         The rest of the world gone, alone
            you tremble as you sit. Listen.

         Hear the cars beneath the cliff—
            Your friend is not there with them.

         Hear the ocean’s distant breath—
            The silent hollow tubes of his life now rested.
               He’s running faster
                  forgetting he cannot run.

         See the daylight coming in.
            The dusty rooms sit blurred.

         See yourself among things.
            The worst despair plagues them.

         Hear again the phone call.
            Your dusty sunlight becomes plain expression.

         Departures from our blank and heavy world persist.
            Friends in earth and oceans
               lie down in unmarked graves.

         See distance rise between the living and the dead
            between the cliffside and the sea
               between discomfort and repose
                  between two people who begin
                     between the endless curves of roads
                        and in the darknesses of the night.

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