Just before waking this morning, I dream of several rainbows,
looping and curling, almost tied together like a knot.
There are three tiers of clouds behind them, going up,
just after a storm. A scattering of white birds shoot through,
near the edge of the World.
All distance becomes trivial, suffused with light. I stand on a high-rise,
with gold windows, behind me the abandoned office of a friend.
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