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a source of deeper riches

in the blue space between the stories

in tiny movements between the stone and moss

trying

with myself

the goldfish

breathing without air

wander in circles

over the same ocean

every time the sun rises

quiet gravity

nothing is lost

speaking on that which remains unspeakable

for one more Spring

stones of particular beauty

new every time

where fear is ever present yet will never tire of pleasure

let the silence divide

your own South Pole

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