in this territory of sorts,
I embrace a familiar face
among a crowd of a million states.
The face has no features
only creatures
that linger and finger
their way into the twister
of my chest and its aching Sister.
My Red muscle beating for a longing
long lost long ago long before its calling.
They're coming
I can feel them strumming
their salty strings along the pattern of my sobbing,
those tears I cupped in fickle hands not made for such a calling.
"Look up, for My hands hold your hands, and the Water that tri, trick, trickle, trickles through,
I released carefully & blew into motion with a few whi, whis, whiss, whispers True."
Lifting the heaving chest and it's Sister companion
the strumming has ceased and the familiar face, ordained as Pain, retreats the battalion.
Music flows
grows
in my ears
and I dance
in this Joy's stance.
So from your Sight do not let me depart;
Keep me in the midst of your heart.
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