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Untitled—a prose poem by William Helms


I awoke last night not in my room, but on the shore of a great sea that stretched not only out before me but upward to the stars so that a great wall of water stood tall next to where I lay. Hesitantly I rose. 

The material beneath my feet was not sand, nor was it rock or dirt, nor was it air or water. It was,  as far as I can describe, nothing at all. 

     The air was charged with a light breeze and a jittery cold that warded off any sense of sleepiness that may have followed me out of slumber.

I had no reflection in that infinite mirror. The stars and the earth shone brightly in my place.


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