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a naked line
finally the perfect meal
a formula for the absurd
successfully welcoming chance
the whispers of practicing wisdom
the vine creeps a line through the seasons
the atheist stands with an angel
the people feel warm sand like a time-lapse
the child-like quiet of movement through chaos
one does not know of another
and the story is put on repeat
there was something i had to clean up
my children remember my shame
a name in a crumpled-up sheet
a confluence pulled to her feet
beginning with finished ascent
a name like now like a continuing book
a moment the texture of sea
the swirl of trapeze of the words
the swoosh of the ice cream in tin
on the screen of an old living room view

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