There is a sense of unity
in those ties that bind
if all’s created equally
between those curves and lines.

Adrift inside the letting go
there is no choice
I cannot row any further
in the uphill of your stream.

Caught up in the afterglow
I still see hope in sparkles of the
dust that settles
(but must try to remember)
I need to forget
that it never was
what will be, will be


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