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Wednesday, May 08, 2013

Hunger



Tight, the grip deep within, nurtured 
by years of solitude counting to the swill's ending hour

Slash that vision of chill amidst arid threaded landscape





Whisper beckons beating, come out of the dark 
to then march on thundering hooves





Spread, the ancient bud was invited
welcome by embrace, emerge as garden
Let go swatted limb, overlook the mountain
from its upturned shoulder



Wait for the arc's return, as remaining still
Untouched
and be
blessed to exhale

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