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Seeing For A Moment

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 I thought I was growing wings—
it was a cocoon.
I thought, now is the time to step into the fire— it was deep water.
Eschatology is a word I learned as a child: the study of Last Things; facing my mirror—no longer young, the news—always of death, the dogs—rising from sleep and clamoring and howling, howling, nevertheless I see for a moment that's not it: it is the First Things.
Word after word floats through the glass.
Towards me.

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