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I saw the arcs in the sky
bright flashes against the black
richocheting the expanse
like a sparkler twirled by a child

And I saw the darkness return
ancient      pure
ambivelent to my voyeurism
to my existence

And I waited    waited to be the witness

And I waited
for the sky to explode across the arch of the horizon
like an eye with a palm pressed against it too hard

And I waited until
after an age
I was stone.

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