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I now view my mortality as a foe.
And I think I can win.
I know. I know.
The title is as long as the poem...
Just a tincture,
An infusion
if you will

Just the essence
of you
And I’ll be ok

Without it,
Bone-deep chill
I was stricken with you
But then I found
That you were stricken too

And I thought all along
it was me, not you
That ached and pined for two

The hard thing for me
Was finding out

Just who,
In fact,
Was who
See him make it
Down the street

Ricket legs
And hobbled feet

Him mumbo something
Him jumbo back

R X R
with clacking track

There him go
Past weeds and such

Full of empty
Short of luck
 Oct 2014 Bruised Orange
Kenshō
Cast out were his alien dreams;
Aspiring and confident he did leave.
Fiery ground of thunder burnt his home;
As he alone cast out for that void,
perceived through his singular glass dome.

Adventure had caught him lonely
But peering out from his craft
his pupils did glow!
Circling fiery molecules hovering to and fro!
How could he now transmit and show
Reflection of scale small and macro!

Fumbling, his fingers did try
To articulate the machines
Imprinted of his native language.
"Calling Cpt. Crow!"

Sending the signal the results did show
A break in the wire and a fuse did blow.
Barricading that soul far and deep,
A minuscule solar flare
Emanating a glow!

And from that earth looked upward team and crew
Saw idle in that gigantic void a singular golden hue

Distant but true was the connection they all knew.
cast upon the void
 Oct 2014 Bruised Orange
JWolfeB
She held me like an etch and sketch
Caressing my edges unit we forgot my past
Cranking tomorrows fortune into figures and shapes
Believing in my ability to live openly
That now, is ever-changing

That now, is a masterpiece
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