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We Are Laying The Foundation For Peace

Peace, lay your soft hand

upon my clenches

and smooth my furrows

I will build my house for your

of the scraps of the others

I raze and build at each

timeless passing

lay your sturdy bricks

along my trenches

and make my burrows

kind to come by

the old is crumbling

into uncertainty

and all I was sure to be

certain, I now do not know

here, I face fully

my greatest death

far surpassing the constant

endings and beginnings

of my selves,

it happens unlike the old

others, which built themselves

upon a shallow rut

it happens to be

the death of their foundation

all the houses of my selves

ever lain in or on it


heavy to deepen the gulch

for your nesting upon

the compost of my old others

dwellers of old worlds

and older fables

and the most fertile yet

I ask you plant yourself

in my decay

deepen your roots

from my houses to come

to my heart awaiting

I ask that I may float lightly

and you be the bedrock

of the temple that holds all things

and myself, not knowing

a single one as its own.


Joy to you,


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