It is inevitable to climb a brick-wall
like the end to a metaphor, normal
for the completion of the day, transgressing
into an indigo of nightfall and nightmares
there are a few things left inside
your swift shutting of the world
a little bit of dust, for glorious deserts
there are lizards to announce the winter
there are a few things left for one human
the attempt to leave
and the power to stay behind.
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