Home2021-03-16T11:22:00+00:00
1801, 2020

the game

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believing myself not to be
(i am clear love
i am pure light)
i pick my way through the
ashes of what fear made

1801, 2020

blind

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for how long
are you thinking
you can keep this up ?
making as if to hide that great light
inside meaner and meaner rags of
story ducking behind the leftover scraps
of what you pretend to be

you think we don’t see it ?

1801, 2020

love

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i had not expected her
to be so vast so all
including
i searched but couldn’t
find a single thing
outside of her
even hate

1801, 2020

a volte

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as I come up
through all my incarnations
sometimes
i feel like the slowest
child in school

1801, 2020

forever

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white road
pink moon
tree twisted in time
i have been meeting my friend here forever
before the doors of time
blew open