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tides are higher now, flooding the paths.

he walked the mud, bringing the footsteps back to us
flashing
nought nought


a sure sign that something
has occured


i will know more when i investigate
we read that they are the most moral army in the world

also read

the moral solders **** little birds, break little bones, and squash them.

little bird. tiny child.

bomb them, burn them, snap their wings.

burn them living, burn them dead, smash the brains out their heads.

pound, break, tiny bones

bulleted.

****** everyone.

animals and trees.

little birds, with little nests.

no nest no more. a moral army burned it, bombed it, destroyed it.

moral solders **** little birds, break little bones, and squash them.

little birds in gaza.

(notes…there may come a ceasefire yet you still have done these things)

( more notes….you agreed a pause and meanwhile **** more..)
life goes on
the mark remains

it was remarked that there is no hurry
that we have the rest of the winter
becomes part of the
pattern
a mark on the horizon

could change it for another yet it has become
a mantra

a pause like in breathing
all became a thing yesterday
regarding these marks of ours
a bit of a collaboration
on twitter and we finished
on this

i hope you do not mind
a differing light
shades and all that surrounds
i drew them later
my way
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