It must be the march of the brave souls

of the drawing of the truth

of the giant magnet 

of life itself given here

under my skin.

Hope, dark and thick 

always through a narrow time

Oh, and the constant hunger of wisdom

always hungry, always have been

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Once you had your images.

Cardiac tamed by the smile

behind the name.

Secrets that you’ve

hymn drawn

to your later

arrow eyes.

You are my pen

after the punishment.

Once you had your heart,

But it came out garbled.

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