At that moment, the bond was broken
and all the journeys we had ever made
melted into thin air
For so long, we had casually assumed the night
Like a burning map
Certain axioms of the heart

I have saved up for you
the end of another immense day
in summer with blank miles of sky
an airliner at an angle over the poplar trees
leaving four slow trails of vapour
It is just what is left of our kiss
All those journeys belonging to others
Like frost in a spiderweb
A different arrangement with hope

Then the sky lies heavy on the wheat
Then there is wheat dust and the sky still
As if the metal is molten
but there is no mould
like a wish
for days you’ve already lived
Is this the night?
Some things vanish because they grow
into other things
Some things just vanish

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