1277
broken path
some mornings
like flowers
a music of just ourselves
can’t help it
imagine by being there
before words
this dance of the gestures
dark random in patches
it was always the empire of where we are
like a breath sometimes inside
the lunge and welcome
instrumental
spread like a stain
and bounce
before this before that
when we were wordless
not ourselves
lots was let go
the gone and the lost
connect
how far back?
some days as if we never were
bearded everywhere once
must have been moss
some day betrayed
high home in a vanish
shown through pages
one dream next to another
tucked in
tides of skin
the tall views
often the feeling of falling
and crouched for a result
so live for a little forever
will we remember here?
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