Meadow of Pure Expression
Written: January 03, 2025
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What we love,
we’re bound to fear,
Caught in the gloom current of our making.
How else could we hear the percussion of our pulse?
It calls in whispers,
shadowed promises,
And I turn—too prompt to hide
the sting of familiarity fangs sinking deeper.
Half-dreaming through scattered zip codes,
Tied to the capricious moon’s glow,
eons waking to the same sun
Revealing scars as orbs on my skin.
Love reclaims its throne,
a sovereign of full-time,
unmasking secrets,
a labyrinthine dance.
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