“New Year” – Carol Ann Duffy

I drop the dying year behind me like a shawl

and let it fall. The urgent fireworks fling themselves

against the night, flowers of desire, love’s fervency.

Out of the space around me, standing here, I shape

your absent body against mine. You touch me as the giving air./

Most far, most near, your arms are darkness, holding me,

so I lean back, lip-read the heavens talking on in light,

syllabic stars. I see, at last, they pray at us.

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