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a glint of the Earth in delight is in bare sight and how we leap not with our body but with our mind. a handful of air swallowing the air – love that somehow half-rhymes yet not even so entirely with hover shows the infinitude of possibilities when it was not your palm that reads an incipient star but a moon half-bitten by an outraged soul when it was not your body I have found but an isle full of noises and I so much the quiet, shall not return with the wind so as to set sail and farther off into blackening space onto a realized sea tinctured with such blue blood, o sea, which somehow rhymes with but the end of you and I coming to be –
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Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 1:08 AM UTC
Tinctured
a glint of the Earth in delight is in bare sight and how we leap not with our body but with our mind. a handful of air swallowing the air – love that somehow half-rhymes yet not even so entirely with hover shows the infinitude of possibilities when it was not your palm that reads an incipient star but a moon half-bitten by an outraged soul when it was not your body I have found but an isle full of noises and I so much the quiet, shall not return with the wind so as to set sail and farther off into blackening space onto a realized sea tinctured with such blue blood, o sea, which somehow rhymes with but the end of you and I coming to be –
windsor-i-guadalupe-jr
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Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 1:08 AM UTC
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