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Opened lips

Opened lips
searching for
a meaning in
this light, and though
they find a purpose, they
release a breath to breeze
and search for more.

Who holds the secret
of this life, when all
we see is what we’re in
and nothing else really shows
until we stop and see
all that’s slow/all that’s sped
from these eyes, these–

Who holds the secret
to how to live this way
when we’re not even sure where
we are– are we even here,
or are we somewhere else entirely?
are we already in-know of this place
or are we so far away to fold
ourselves over and hope we’re
halfway close– halfway close–
halfway to a view of entirety?

Keep all you’ve done
and hold it close to
those you hold closer than
the air about you
and hold it close to
all you’ve been and where you’ve
yet to be, for you
will know one day
you take that with you
in a spirit, a
means by which you
are known from
here, are given
from this, life, to
Thee, He, She, They
who are yet to be, and
though you see
only what it’s been, you’ll
know soon how
much they are
when opened to the air and let
sift through sky–
how
beautiful the light
when caught within a sight
of buoyed ‘testines
clattered ‘mongst the candle
and all that’s seen is
matter, and nothing ever does.

crikey
shit's been lacking recently.

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musings & scribbles