the stranger wind leaves us stranded in memory
as the trivial angel categorizes our reactions to beauty
it is because we have been here before are we here now
to gaze into the uninterrupted horizon
to fathom the deeper colors as the light descends
forgetting time, lying down to die another day
we walk into our minds and join the flow of the dreaming
a billion bits of information fly by unnoticed
as we remember lovers that we never touched
to speak in riddles we ourselves do not understand
never to look above or below for the answers
or to feel as the mind remembers, remembers
the angel measures the distances between forgettings
where we were awoken from that stranger wind
that seemed as important as life, mysterious as death
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