Darkly Seen
A dark moon, one still seen,
as darkened glimmers, in a shadowy sheen.
Is it moonlight we see, or a familiar face,
now lost, struggling through,
a cloud cover of memory?
Whatever the sky is in us,
we see that sky reflected in the outer.
The space within is the space without.
Look again at that ghostly moon,
perhaps you will meet yourself,
looking for you.
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