I had a dream in which I was the girl
you lucidly imagined in your childhood,
My hair whipped about me, pacing the feathered wheat and wildflowers
of an infinite meadow.
I was not whole, only a sketch of myself,
and reaching unknowing for your hand,
a hand unstenciled, whole, complete,
of an infinite meadow.
I was not whole, only a sketch of myself,
and reaching unknowing for your hand,
a hand unstenciled, whole, complete,
I could not verge far enough,
and so I began to shred,
dissipate as if ashes,
into tiny sketched drifting seeds, utterly vanishing
and so I began to shred,
dissipate as if ashes,
into tiny sketched drifting seeds, utterly vanishing
into an eternal wind.
I am reborn.
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