Light falls against the window and runs off in quiet rivulets, the garden becomes a rippling pool of light, the street a river in which children play
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Conversation
Night falls and the pools start steaming, evaporate into a firefly storm, escape into the sky where they later crystallize from clouds into stars
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Some roofing nails fix the daytime sky in place even as the night advances, squeezing the juices from the twilight for bottling
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