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invisible
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When we see ourselves beneath the tombstone,
the moss we find there races against our disintegration,
our crumbling into roots,
memory leeching out
to mix with soil, humus, and hubris.
Travels up pith to canopy
breathed out
floats over valley
cloudburst, back down
to be inhaled by new tyrant.
it's rare that i say this, but i find this piece to be absolutely perfect as it is. beginning to end and everything in between, it all makes me smile.