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bliss

there’s a strangeness
to becoming –
from imprints of the past
a truth made strong
(by little lies)
as destinies recast

in azure blue
reflection
before the moon was lost
shadows split the night
(with memory) –
as stars uncrossed

by the weight
of desperation
were longing (eternal)
come to rest –
hopes are rearranged (by one desire)
and held by less

a fleeting proposition
unremembered by design –
dreams returning
(carried by the soul)
are of one
divine

. . .