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The Morning and the Match

the cup of coffee is singular /
the glass of water is unmoved /
the great oceans of colours is late /
Corona Borealis thins as the kitchen light ignites /
the screen window halves the worlds /
one whose lines measure /
the determined weight around us /
bowing into the cement bed beneath /
one shrugging off an extended series of human ads /
from the overflowing sink staining the fallen world /
to the democratic king riding himself to gated freedom /
this one outside waiting for our stage to collapse