Objects in the Mirror

It's almost time. 

Sitting in a moving vehicle,
letting the rush of park-school-building-

terminal unroll its parallel length, 
for a while I feel taken out of my own

skin. Cells of light flutter beneath the leaves

and I unshade my eyes. We are warned
there are things we shouldn't look at

directly—instead, we should pour 
water into a bucket and observe 

the clock of the world burning there.

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