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Sep 2011
Swept, clean
in the arms of the wind
like water through my fingertips,
looking down a waterfall...

It is cradled and crafted by the
hands of my heart
wrapped in a warm soft sweater of memories

Clouds overcast my thought, pregnant with
needles, raining on my skin, the air smells of rust;
it's swelling and choking me, it poisoned my sleep...

Then like a beautiful symphony heard once,
it is gone. A meal digested.
Like a violin solo, like a dreary concerto, a eulogy stuck
in my head,

my chest is anchored. My blood flows slowly.

You'll find me, still hoisting the sail,
braving the glaciers, the Krakens,

but who would stay to join me in these seas?
Rhianna OReilly
Written by
Rhianna OReilly
865
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