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A compulsory ritual, this has become.
I feel undone.by Element27 47 lines, 2 comments, on Apr 4 10:50 PM -
All in gossamer went my Soul strokeing
on a all-encompassing thoughts of self-loathing -
Pretty red ribbon, uncurl. A soft whisper, barely heard. Like silk on satin. So tightly wound, uncurl me. Ease the strings, loose the knots, pull each strand; defined. The forked end curls up, around. Scarlet on scarlet. Red
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Walking west; cast behind me, late afternoon. Un-see-able. Like my past, behind me. Must always follow; always there. Even night may not extinguish your cast, just obscure it. You will rise again with the sun. Not spirit, nor
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