the flicker of your gaze
the burden of your hope
I am an ant under a crumb
this skin's dance is like
first-born-feather-light
of morning snow (I know
we might have gone our true
ways without a clue, except for
some secret script of the universe)
_
the burden of your hope
I am an ant under a crumb
this skin's dance is like
first-born-feather-light
of morning snow (I know
we might have gone our true
ways without a clue, except for
some secret script of the universe)
_
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