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where it has never been dark

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Seemed easy, the hourglass turning itself,
induced artificial weight,
decades shuttering
by frame by frame, motions of the zoetrope,
to drink your last night out on the city.
You convinced yourself to houseguest with the stars.

It is your last night ever. Their cosmology, Stella Artois,
sky never black with seepage
of bright minds, faces. Assurances.
You will never be bored, they say.
All the personalities in the world in the data of your ship. Starlet sex while you wait. Laugh!
Time, it'll pass like nothing

and now it is gone. An astronomical bauble
nestles in your frame. The ship where the lights never sleep
careens toward it, this is your first sight
of a thing you were stoned for thirty-seven years ago.
Electrons live in the computer and your drug hazes outside, and
you resolve to possess the emptier one.