Above breathable air, late to our baptism we stay our rage
for people holding heavy weights should forgiveness permit
our foreheads burned with waiting under oak cross for signs

leaving is for people who know how to stand upright
tendered in gifts, lying beneath our fresh hewn graves
bend your head, accept your grace, it shimmers
like daisies caught after dark become
blinded by the fruition of wonder dashing across tarmac

together we fall from grace, over precipices unsafe
granite catches our flail we dove tail in parallel
could we know the fortunes of betrothal would we share
those sweet plums pulled from giving trees with strangers
urging in their hunger for another draught of nectar
who can say when fate belongs to imperfect fabric Gods
deciding our code like pinching frost seated early in thirst
renders earths paucity blackened over twice

if we cleave to truth we wipe away…

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