The past shapes
manipulates
unfolds us as it will but
none of us are bound.
In my mind
I give you leave to go
touch the sun and
dare to fly as all dreamers do.
In other realms of light
I bend
twist and turn
tired of life’s friction
on a never-ending loom.
Paths cross
interweave for a while
then part.
As different as chalk and cheese
are fire and ice
Yet,
each one burns our fingers
just the same.
~*~
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