This

This is your magnum opus –
not poem, nor script,
nor perfect photograph.

There is no road,
no denouement. You will not
know more

than you once did,
nor less. Lift your wide eyes.
See the electric sky

in all of its broken
blueness. Watch
the hanging leaves

turn green to yellow
to brown. See your reflection
in still water,

and observe the candle
burn to nothing. Smell
fresh basil

and peaches. Feel
your bare feet press
into wet earth. Breathe

morning deep
into your nose.
Taste the air. Touch

the dirt. Lie down
in the grass. Love.
Love.

Love some more.
This is
our magnum opus.

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