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In Providence, I opened a
roof
to see sunrise from stars, and the other roofs of Providence
were all books including mine
turned over, tented, so they could concentrate on rarity.
I saw whatever had fallen,
whatever was then thrown up from the bottom
buoyed by gas, saw the gulls come,
the laughers, the royal terns stroking like oars,
saw our shortcuts,
how gravity shapes our bodies, how the long black streets struggled to go
straight.
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