i, dissected:
bloodletter that you are,
i'll bet there is art
even in the hone.

and someday,

i can shamble off with a smile
toward smaller miracles
and all manner of the
less-remarkable.
i will thank you when we pass
if you allow,
and with more grace than this
if i can.

until then,
i hope that i belong here.

it's easy to know warmth
in the shadow of a sun,
but i can't see a thing.

07/22/2016

Posted on 07/22/2016
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