Telepathy
and now the october sun is clipping
the last reach of trees
george square cradles the 4pm sunlight
before it melds
into the decline
of day melting
the trees huddled into a whisper
bleed the solitary sparrow
sheathed by shadow soaring southward...
and i'm in the box-shaped building
glassed
and you, the early-evening you
are young and elsewhere
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