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As much as I like to believe in the multiverse,This is the world we've got, though we've folded itWith novels and poems, creasing it like a brain.Misery nestles against beauty, the hopeless desireTo be good to you, to have been good and not neededTo have been told, anger and sleep and the necessity of waking;It isn't something else that pulls you from dreams,It's your mind, a collection of fireflies in a jar,Garish on a PET scan. Restless. Everything is trueAnd false at once, everything is right and wrong,