After something like several hours
Of stupefied sitting,
Paralyzed self-consoling,

I stretched my legs, not so eagerly,
Toward the end of the horizon
Hoping maybe in other worlds,

In fraternal existences,
Mirrored in similarly opaque words,
Were the sentiments, the fulfillments,

Of all the short-comings here
Shrinking shorter like cotton undergarments,
And I know,

In the way you can never quite explain,
That, though I stretch into valleys,
Redemptions, graces,

All beneath the ever-familiar sky,
I will never move again.

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