we should concede that we are separate /
though we share air, the mouth’d breath that returns /
are hieroglyphs without a common stone /
those footprints in front of the yard are a myth /
so many vessels reclining into the current /
bobbing far from the rough catches of the shores /
arriving at a great pool, stirring finally in the swirl /
broken glass in a river is never seen, only felt /
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