This..

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This….this….
it always comes back to this;
this orange breath,
this rusty prayer,
this brazen flight,
this melting, and glowing,
and fading, and licking the rims
of the earth and it’s salty darkness
and then, just when everything is swallowed
by the silence of the soul,
this..
this thing, this profound thing;

this…
being born again.

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6 thoughts on “This..

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