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The light abandons us
to another night.
Tree tips become membranes:
Sky and Earth share skin.
Ink mists gather:
blue blood bleeding
into black horizons.
We fold senseless
into it all:
a boundless origami
of forest and river,
their creatures and their filth.
Hills and mountains rise:
Igneous whales
from lava oceans beneath.
Up turns down,
and inside, out.
Another cataclsym:
the void reclaims us.
Do what you can now:
The light will not return.