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Dark Evening
Late in the evening
in a brightly lit room,
and the windows
have all gone black,
it is impossible to see
what is out there,
only your reflection—
and the reflection
of a single bulb
shining brightly above you,
like a big idea.
And there in the mirror
behind you, ten hundred
thousand more of you—
your ten hundred thousand hands,
all of them
grasping for it.