my body becomes the earth and air and sky

it is gentle

leaves drifting to the ground

and a single thread

unravels an entire work

frayed at the edges

we watch our works unravel at the edges

dissolving towards the center

and we cry that our toys

which we thought were a self

are scattered thoughtlessly

to the winds

but no matter what is taken, there is still that

and we search for it

among the rubble

it’s not there

but there is more light

in the street

so we look there

too bad

the sky looks for itself

on the ground


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