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i see two lovers
miles above the pressing world
souls light like pigeons.
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There is something
to be said
for taking a day
(every day)
without wondering
to one's self:
Was it worth it? Did I
make it? Should I try
to keep it?
The Bachelorette's War Cry
Are we bound to see ourselves
as fragments, shards of wing
and broken shells?
Is it the awful thing
to live alone, and deem it well?
Perhaps the sorrow
should be shelved,
cast and cracked and weld
into something stronger, deeper,
surer. Perhaps what we'd held
was never sadness, but anger.
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Relentless
It is indeed a small
miracle, that delicate dance
of human emotion. For few
are what we seem at all
when pressed together in chance-
we are mis-matched shoes.
There is a stubborn wall
we scale, or barrel past
in persistent quest to woo
the one who made us fall
into that endless pit we cast
ourselves, relentlessly, to prove
our words are true.
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Meditation on couples, serenity, singleness, and involvement. Add thoughts or insta-poetry if desired.