12. Accuracies

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Let me just say this to you;
if we ever still talk on the next leap day

I will invite you to a lousy stargazing.
Science would advise us on proper

dates for this sightseeing
but there is no need for accuracy.

Who said our clocks gauge us exactly
when there are leap years?

Even a poet's metaphors are collected 

in chips the way you find biscuit

crumbles on your pockets as a child,
still learning where to put the right

things in proper places.
Such an uncouth dogmatism,

I could never let you look like a fool
in front of the stars (or above them rather)

so we will gaze at them in a coyly manner, such as this extra day

(Or night, rather)
whose parts are gone three times

already in each year before---
an observation we got on this

long distance inquisition.
And then you'll get goosebumps

over their existence after their deaths.
This mischievous, silvery, fiery bruises

above which gets prettier as they fall.
And so I will take a deep breath

as I notice no difference
between your face and those above---

if they possess souls then I might be
convinced of doppelgangers. Or just maybe.

Who still care about accuracies
nowadays, no one really

I tell you everyone now likes to play silly, living extra days, gazing on dead

existences.

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