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his scar garden
it is in the safety of the charred night,
one whose stars have been hand plucked
from the sky,
that I observe myself
in an infinite bliss.
the cosmos purr this sacred psalm of wonder,
this fresh breath of a new love
spilling from my lips
sets fog from core.
I thrust myself to the sky
time and time again,
and time again.
this precious consequence
leaves me
numb and hungry
for an...
Wednesday 21st August 2024 4:46 pm
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