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This quietly enclosure of froth & sound & murmur
Like wind on turbulent hills
Sun on pre-scorched flesh
Swallows & crows beak at the bindings of
Air
Air circles my breath like summer circles the winter
A small time then ache
Ache comes quick & clean & sorrow on its doorstep

I’d hide there. Broken. A longing lost on my lips
Like the words I never speak like the
Foods I never
Eat like the
Eyes I never
See like the
Wounds that
Weep & weep

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