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Click hereThe day broke over your eyes, fluttered near
thick lashed, the iris leaf circled in bark.
I smiled upon your mouth full laughing, dear,
kissing the blood of lips against the spark
of dawn. This is how we wake, and thus begin
anew the path leading away from then
and how it was and what will be to win
nothing from her or him but start again,
believe that something pure can be exchanged
within the breath of hope awakened now
in battered souls that here are rearranged
from what once was, reshaped by questions. How
love do we know which way to go or be?
It matters not; our world is rich. Wait. See.
Continuing / I read the third Anew three times / to feel the ease of it's meaning and beauty / and yet I know I must revist all three / for there is unfinished mining here / that needs doing as I work to unearth / the unknowns that these three still have power to shape / / /
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 34,000 poems.
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