Visionary of the East
It’s true the days last longer over on your side of town
But over here we catch the morning first
Your houses cast a twilight premature upon our houses,
But ours is the horizon and horizon’s first sunburst.
And so our shadows fill with nighttime, and your shadows filled with nigghttime,
The pages fading back into the words.
The blue’s diminuendo into black were it not for
The city’s yellow shadow, sprawling cross the clouds.
And so our shadows fill with nighttime and your shadows fill with nighttime,
A gradient from blue to yellow black;
The letters are the shadows that survive the morning sun
And every night they take the pages back.
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