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In my hair the folding air climbs and sings sound Swanlike In the curves of my skin And the seas speech frames many tongues of eyes bringing gold crosses Emblazoned in the latticed roof of pine needles perforated ahead A carousel of colors crawl through my brain A natural electric stream With cold, with cold surrounding Undulating never into old The forests of rainbows roll with Singsong eyes the iced cream skies call long into the arms of the ocean Into the body of them My body then embodied therein
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Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 8:58 PM UTC
Reflection on Morning No. 5.5
In my hair the folding air climbs and sings sound Swanlike In the curves of my skin And the seas speech frames many tongues of eyes bringing gold crosses Emblazoned in the latticed roof of pine needles perforated ahead A carousel of colors crawl through my brain A natural electric stream With cold, with cold surrounding Undulating never into old The forests of rainbows roll with Singsong eyes the iced cream skies call long into the arms of the ocean Into the body of them My body then embodied therein
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noah-ducane
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Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 8:58 PM UTC
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