this is the very same moon, here, dashing
from cloud to cloud, which lays softly splintered
on the ocean, there; it is reflecting the very
same light into both of our eyes
no one basket can hold the separate moments,
the very same seconds, swept across each and
every
clock face, lived in each of our separate theaters
(but I know, as certainly as
this fingernail, chewed off my index finger)
that many times, alone
in crowds, or in bed,
alone, we both laughed at
the same instant, without
a word
yes, I am quite sure now, that this is the very
same moon, and the light of our shared laughter
is still traveling, out there, somewhere, in space
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