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May 2020
Palms read at a Psychic Eye,
Queries for her tarot cards
A youth full of doubt asks why
Who was I
In the chaos
far long gone,
Before this breath fast / Falls to sleep.
From dreamy wish to bones
Six feet deep...past life of one
Mr. Nobody,
Graduation Class of ‘93.
Who was he before?
Doubt the fortunes could tell us more
That Old ghost inside this shell...
As she Unveils dark curtains
Her many wares to sell...

  “Once you were a shaman,” she says
To her mark she barks
“Before the white men came“

From not that far
The wild untamed
Such heights
Native son, you will light
The ways made dark
Though this feels like a hollowed heart,
Pause then when
She begins to sob
Feelings / wars inside
(not lost)
Just a small spark of light
At nightly cross
Until our ends
Space/time is a canvas
To only behold
What was now
Fast awake
Like stars that guide
Ships of old, arrive as new
life.
Who knows...

“Once that shaman was you...”
Who knew you
Were then
Back when
Before our human birth
Returns to the earth,
Arrive as new
You now.
Revised
Butch Decatoria
Written by
Butch Decatoria  47/M/Las Vegas, Nevada, USA
(47/M/Las Vegas, Nevada, USA)   
82
   Bogdan Dragos
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