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You
      may have tricked me,
                                                    but i
                              fooled myself.

              maybe,
                       hopefully,     

         ..maybe..

                                          these things

Are
                                                       for
The Best
                                                         in the end.
To my own regret
I've made my bed
It's a shame we met
While I lost my head
What is it that holds you back?
Mistrust?
Probably.
Not sure if your doubt
Is placed in you or me
Truth be told
I’m not ready
So maybe the thing
Holding you back
Might be me
Reducing a book
down to one chapter

Reducing that chapter
to a paragraph honed

Reducing that paragraph
to one lasting sentence

Reducing that sentence
to a word
— truth atoned

(Dreamsleep: July, 2024)
Marvelous looks the way
same route though everyday
amid leaves' rustles
and street hustles
walking jogging running
merrily with the nimble steps
skimming on winds
in an imaginary land
soft little fingers
slipping in and out
of the age worn hand.

Ten minutes to ten minutes fro
changes the landscape though
stiff barren dull sad heavy.

The trudge back
along the insipid land
with no hands to hold.

The landscape holds nothing..
it's all in the mind.
Small, wet, and
Buried
Trying hard to remember
I am a seed
Buried is where I need
To be
You take:

One part nursery
And one part tomb

Mix well beyond thoroughly,
Folding in struggle as you go

Sun-bake it for all eternity
And call the dish 'Home'
Perfect for all anniversaries,
From birth to bare bones!
We exist within the four dimensions

But truly live within the fifth

Everymind's a'whirl in it's own world of myth

Circles around circles around moments that we miss

While the trials of the porcupine lead many a'miff

To both want and want not; to flaunt meaning mixed


And yet...


I'd like to hold you closer, in spite of the ******

Be not deceived by the 'I', but take delight in it's tricks

Repeat that line till it sticks

And chase that spine to the Styx

It's a long, slow slide inside Ganesha and Nyx

And it's an, often, low ride from our cribs to our crypts
If you ever get the chance

To catch that moment of bliss,

It might-could end next you blink,

So brace your world with a kiss
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