Butterflied
Wrapped in my shroud, I am blind to Your brilliance. Larval squirmings, procedural dues, envelop mind and consume corpse so that all I feel is the pain of becoming; the razor-edge ritual, this...
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Dim, as through a glass darkly, eyes seek out Your light. Veils, be gone – cataracts seek sun as surfer seeks sea, rest and restoration no matter the weather. Rise, dawn of my heart, bloom in rainbows...
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