edge of the knife

it is like a knife the ice hot burning fire edge the warming glow of Self embrace broiling and crackling like that campfire by the little lake you swam all the way across only days before the layer of being a girl was stripped away the tipping point pointing back to that black hole fire that is all the life there is to live tipping to one side with cringing ash disappearing off the lips and one way absorbing into clear oceans of infinity

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Written by

Billie_Marie

49 / F / Yuma, AZ

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