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I have a sense that I should let go.

B

The blood trickles over the pulse of my wrist.

The veins contract and constrict.

The flow of life moving within me like a song and a dance.


The drops of blood fall like denial to the floor.


I wish you could turn to me and see my truth. Does the light fade into the shadows for you too?

Or do you see clearly into the dark?

I have a sense that I should let go.

As if to lift my arms into flight.


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