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all depending ‘pon the way,

all depending ‘pon the way,
i imagine a blank canvas, saturated in
holes/the darkest holes/the craters
of eyes’ comets, those
trailed-ones let freeze from melt of ‘motion, that
valve-clenching pattern over nerve
you know stops, but not when,
 until you know nothing else.

just
seek clarity of self

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