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Have I calmed the rambling voices or is it still necessary to
shatter the old shell into scintilla I could carry with me?
Time is on its track and won't be dissuaded by any
and certainly not me. So I am left to wonder.
Do I cast these shards into the furnace
to spend their energies or do I drape them
in silver to gaze into their mirrors and false infinity?
All is water.
Frigid, clear and gray as static without end. My world is drowned ruins, broken trees, deserts of sand carved with messages from the currents.

Alone in a craft, at the mercy of the mercurial swells, drinking cloud filtered sun rays. My stray hand cuts a futile wake through the brine only to be swallowed once again by uniformity.

My body follows
and breaks the surface to sun kissed seas a lifetime away. I am cradled in waters warm and I breathe deep.
Leave me in a forest, under trees.
Let the moss envelope me and turn
my bones to marble.

Chisel me again into a better form.
Carve my eyes until they're clarified.
Manifestation as a guide.
And in this dream the air is calm
and the mountains aren't so distant.
With the sun to warm my back, to light
the path ahead.

Can I still taste the tang of salt from the sea?
No, this is the harsh bite of pine around my shoulders.
I'm getting closer.

An archway - cut into the body of Earth.
A gaping aperture, hollow like a skull.
Moulded marble entrance fit for a king.

Descend the steps blind in the dark.
Stillness and quiescence of the void
pounding a tattoo of silence like a message.
Work in progress?
It seems like all I've known
is this Kingdom of Light and Stone.
I wonder how long it's been...
I wonder if I'll feel the rains again.
I am a child of Desert
born to ever present light.
Sol burned its sigil in my skin
and left the blood to drip
its own language into the sand.

Scorched into crystal shape -
I am a prison for sunlight.
Cursed to shine however bright.

Burdened to take up a crown
shining and luminescent
formed from the dunes of our land
burnt 'til they coruscate.

But Light grows dull and tepid.
An engine seized and dying.
Fighting Itself to keep the Fires alight.

What will be left when the quartz grows dark?
You are the sun in my chest
cauterizing a second path through the desert.
A ribbon of glass carving a message of love
for the mountains. I let loose a breath of flame and set off
with you once again.
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