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Feb 2020
I felt you in the ancient dirt
of the earth upon which
I press my brow
In the quiet rocks that
make up this mountain
in the unproclaimed wood
that holds my fire
in the safe cave around my body

I gather you into a mound
in my hands, wondering where
you are and how to find you

oh stranger of my belonging
form out from the earth
be a friend I can hold
Micah Abat
Written by
Micah Abat  25/F/Bay Area, California
(25/F/Bay Area, California)   
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