Looking up I found a space
a gap in the strata
with no light coming through
refraction, the landscape became shadow
I thought I was dreaming
but still this glass
swung mid air, the earth spinning
west to east (counter clockwise)
polar motion
sidereal day because city
and no space
it was a sky of books
words fell like rain
onto a loose leaf lawn
all the type ruined by damp
mid-level clouds
the moon was visible
as if a window and broken
found the edge
brought out blood
but it was only a paper cut.
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