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The soft bat of her eyelashes, the soft spoken yell

The patience and poise, the sea over way

Generations of human identity, making way for womb loving

Make way she is coming, make way they know.

All and all is coming.

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Nearing the far to the end. The planets continue to circle, the nights to days. The breaths of the bodies, the headaches, the pains. The excitements, the joy, the wondering laughs. New faces, quick conversations, perhaps. The oh so longing, the true felt missing of touch. The hugs one must feel at least seven times, or you're probably too "tough." The old memories spring upon us, whatever triggers the thoughts. The blossoming new ideas that bury deep so they never go un-forgot. I notice now my cycles, the ebbs and tides of my life's flow. The beauty in the bleeding and knowing nature is in full control. Not trying to fix, not trying to unfold. Expressing it unapologetically for those around me to fully know. I come upon my true connection, not a sliver doubt taking just a bit of control. I now own it, it owns me, I so deeply know. From my conception to my birth, my troubles, insecurities, triumphs, and mistakes. My lofty and dreamy brain collects and holds onto the little wins. The little wins are just fine they are little takes. My brain has yet again found some clarity. I cherish these moments, I hold onto a lot. I recognize what I need from whom. I know myself in parts, I believe others think they know me in whole. Our soulmates are around us, holding us to and fro. What magnificent glory to know we've made nonsense into understanding. I am mixed with every bit of one of us, a human, our spirit's soul. I feel you every time, unless my head forgets to hold the heart in hand. Cherishing one another, see me in all my faults and defects. Accept as I am and don't worry because we all carry ego and judgements will sometimes carry. The water I feel peaceful, the water he feels safe. Alone we are today, tomorrow together in another space. The oceans, the mountains, the palm tree's top. I need you now, but not more than ever. Quiet, excessive, fluctuation, fear. Reduce to produce in love that knows what fear? The expression of words of streams of consciousness makes way through an existential thoughts that filter through emotions. Come hold me close, dear. Come through from person to person, augmented reality or not. My emotions are what captivate me, move me, inspire me a lot. Our perception stems from emotions of affirmation, empowerment, fixation of voices that remind me that I am sane. Stay here, stay with you. Assimilate your intuitions, rise to speak each day. Maybe you just don't want to, and that's ok. But forget that, forget you, be meek and underestimate your greatness. No one is counting on you. Only count your money, close your opportunity, go ahead close your door. 7cfa9db13af67e1f925591e2e41c0b0d8d1695173ba9b924ee5742a0b95a48e9 Photographs Philip-Lorca diCorcia

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the black and white of his hand

floated through the heated air

his arm just hanging

sounds of masculinity I fathomed

bridge of death

I sought for

residence of life

the fingers now floated there

lifeless

buoyant amongst pressure

he was gone

she is arriving