text:
how deep/ can this room grow as deep/
as deep as our voices/ as the Pacific/
and the words/ that wander and run
how deep/ can this room grow as deep/
as deep as our voices/ as the Pacific/
and the words/ that wander and run
into the walls like flies/ the fireflies,/
they rise up from the bog/ outside
the Kaleidescope Room/ like spirits
from their graves/ noting nothing/
after all they are not/ tourists falsh-
ing shiny asses at the sun, / the moon/
and everything in between/
and meanwhile you/ and i we think
of/ nothing, or anything, whichever/
you prefer because after all/ we are
not fireflies/ and we can say/ whatever
we can think of.
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