Hold me
for I am yours:
outside, slow mountain rain
damp the hill-song of the soul worlds
now split.
Dissolving under my feet,
as in a tidal ******..
slipping hand, don't let go!
Here by the wood
by the hill under the sky,
under the stars,
dark, lies a world curled up:
fly, fly to distant realms,
never away from home.
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