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A Stroll Through the Forest of Our Inner Beings
I've become accustomed to infinity in a rectangular form.
Upon occasion, midnight crows envelope its frame.
My irises burn with the prospect of their flight, talons click, clack, threatening the fragile fiberglass.
I sense burnt down, feathers scream and slice in the pollution.
Surely their beaks will intrude upon my skin, surely it will burn, charred flesh.
I taste rather than feel the sour focus of their beady eyes; it encases me
within its cruel calculation.
The presence of peace caresses me; Hell will not seize me, not today.
Suddenly the challenge is sweet, and I accept its outstretched forearm.
The shape before me relinquishes its firewalls and my fingers touch keys tentatively.
I am entwined in the melodious greeting of human presence.
Here my limbs thrash about, testing the currents; I am free.
I am liberated as the thunderstorm.
I could surface beyond the drops that pool.
She climbed into the arms of her soul.
Now and forever my hand will clutch yours.
We clench the mist to hold so close.