I lose myself ...among wildflowers..
I mind-cut through the rust of mundane thoughts...
resuscitating words and laying them out in the radiance
of the sun.
the sun seeps gold
through my hair....awakening
words shape themselves...cutting through the miasma..
my gut goes candid..I retreat into where I bleed alone..
holding on tightly to the unwavering companionship of
an organic wind
carries syllables to me..
I play my pen
a quill haloed by mentors of destiny..destiny slams its
door..like a zealot with the devil in his eyes.
words course through the
virgin of my sternere..
I have come home...
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