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About This Poem
Cyclones
When does the cyclone grow more shallow?
In the circling world, when does the fight become futile?
Your love is an ocean I only see now as a rivulet
Between the cracks of a sidewalk.
I'm there now with a cup, and the universe,
Which does not know me, and will not know me when I leave.
(*RIP Christopher Hitchens)
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