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  • R.T.

A Sheet Pulled Back

I read from Life

that scary is death,

yet more fright there is

in loving both sadness and joy,

and still I sit with my toes tucked

Beneath the sheets of my bed,

Things I’ve said, doings of bliss:

Have wrought my soul rusty-red.

My harbinger is my mind, and unto me

Revelations come quick and lose fast;

but I hold faithfully to myself,

For deep in this barbed wire brain

is oil and repair by hands gloved white

from bright blue cloud-skies above,

Where reigns an unknown domain.

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