Sometimes all you want in life is a moment of clarity,
a sliver of vision in the woodlands like a gleam,
a piece of the universe to be naked,
crystal and jarring to the texture of a breath.
You break bread with midnight in words on a page
bartering in aged sentiments fermenting in the barrel
rotated and left to preserved air.
The memory of transparency in youth,
the way a body could know variables like direction,
dreams of chimneys and magical forces
that would grant wishes or prayers in silent starlight.
You stare until vision blurs and
a heart thumps dizzy and pacing that love actually is
a breathing mocking bird fluttering in nest,
a tree of sounds reminding and surprising in a morning song.
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