Posted by: scintillatingspeck | October 24, 2013

Anima.

You do not have to see around corners.
You do not have to don the yoke that you think is yours.
You can walk through that wet curtain of tears, its filaments plastered
along the contours of your body,
into a solitary infinity as blue-black as sky.
You can ride currents of water and air
until you know, tangibly, without doubt,
that you are a trout, and a raptor,
enraptured, above and below.

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