if no rain's any truer than rain
if distance is is in anyway
a proxy for emptiness
then me giving up myself
plays as a canopy under which
i can hide from
dreaming.
by endlessly falling again
and again
and again
into you.
if meaning mimics doubt
you hop south then west then east
if time catches up with you
will it shift the way you see ahead?
the question is when, the question is
whether i'll resist lying again without being completely empty.
for b.j.
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