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Writhing in the Dark

Maybe it is best
left as a mystery,
all the sacred things
you hold dear,
trapped inside
for you to breathe.

Even as you notice
the most sincere
principles of reality–
you condemn all the fake
that screams in your face,

and that knowledge may lead
to even more intricate puzzles,
fluttering down from
somewhere to nowhere,
like lazy words writhing
mystically in the dark.

 

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Original Photography

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A Walk Behind My Heart

I walked behind
my heart,
Covered up to the thighs
in its rivers,

freezing from the chill
that it became since 
life served it grief
beyond winters,

only seeing
the calm of blood that 
passed the rest of my 
body on the inside.

we learned to flow
together,
to search for ourselves
On the walls & floors 
of my flesh,

with no control as I got
closer to feel its beats, 

as blood became my 
Feet I swam

without ever learning
but knowing & feeling 
how weak I could be 
in its strength.