This is a gift, every bit. I need to look at my reflection and what I stand to learn from it.
Consider everything, drop what doesn’t resonate. There’s a force within these feelings, magnetic north to my true being.
I sing the body holographic. Multidimensional crystalline projections. A dream within a dream from a limited perspective.
And yet I wonder why I still dream of her and the house built by my grandfather.
What’s left for me? I got a pocket full of epiphanies, some spare change. There’s a subtle plan, degrees to which I understand it. I’ve got constant hands to hold mine. There’s “time” and then there’s no time.
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