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Nov 2017
Your Soul

So who is this Soul that you sing of?
This silent witness
Who counts the leaves off  of trees  
instead of gathering them?
Then raking them into a funerary circle,
Into a giant pile, your better self will fall from,
Or jump into?
Up to your eyeballs,
Up to your own little crown of thorns.
Igorgoldkind
Written by
Igorgoldkind  52/M/Encinitas, California
(52/M/Encinitas, California)   
246
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