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Dec 2020
i am course, blemished, unfinished
***** hands, fingernails playing through broken strings
a child's small fist
often a rage
often alone in the dark
vulnerable,moving through the mystery
reaching my end in silence
...a myriad of cobbled pathways that once led to castles
i hear the stones begin to sing beneath my feet
and cross threshold after threshold
all manners of visions and awakenings
....sight of you engraves my soul
i go to the one who goes to the one
without fear
...without fear
se
waskosims
Written by
waskosims
97
     Jamadhi Verse and acacia
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