Where, perfection, do you dwell
If not in the touch of one who loves me well
In the curiosity contained within the eyes
Of the soul searching, undisguised
For the compass contained within my center
For permission granted for which to enter
Tag Archives: moss
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The morning I think of giving up
Shades of moss green and orchid peaceably pull me back
As an elder, in Auto-Tune
Promising a child that dancing days lie ahead
An altogether different morning, now
That deserves
I deserve
A wholly-new and holy mind
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