a post is a post

fibers stretch to reach each other..

colors blend with one another..

masks slip to show the feeling..

we choose to breathe on our own.

the sun shines to keep what’s living..

and night falls to free the eager

love reminds what falls beneath

constantly hiding behind our eyes.

so how do we end up where we’re standing?

the constant presence of your own choice

there’s no denying what was and what is..

a mind set on shoulders recalls them all.

those fibers pull to rip it’s seams.

bleeding colors, damaged water.

remember your shattered leaves, dancing branches, fallen trees.

sit awhile, rest is necessary.

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