Heed the warning of her rumbling
and the symphony of their feet seeking refuge with each step Where there is fire there is kindling Where there are veils there are lies pull the thread of consent out of the garment of hate witness the unraveling and release it into the flames die and be reborn in the ashes come together like cinder block build this house and pave the streets with compassion
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AuthorI am a poet, for better or for worse. It is a way in my being that, ironically has no words. It is a way in my being that finds me when I, and helps me to, forget. I am a poet, for better or for worse. Archives
November 2021
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