the fall comes late here

as i sit with pricks of insecurities

salting my thoughts too sharply.

the taste (its potency) blazes over every spice of life

and numbs reception to all other flavors.

God, ease the sting, the insufficient love

i lack the strength myself to


seed deep the power i've come to know

and trust

let me not blast past for fear of pain

for fear of past becoming present once again

let me taste each subtle, blooming flavor

in all its glory for what it is

and abstain from how i salt life

with my human hands

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gently softly fixed we cry stagnant in our offering the way is blocked is fogged over by insert what you will trigger release remembrance the gaze of Light into disheveled corners where any which way

gravity the weighing of objects the weight of thoughts unstrung like dust in the moonlight carrying on unbound for chance at matter mattering to matter to be

waded to wait wayward we fly past tall buildings of water of living light we know them feel them are them but do not know them as our own we turn obligatory circles whispers reach us and we learn