• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 01
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we called it home

fused;

chalk with bone
ozone with blood
seasons with pulse

this earth
runs through me
fused; to

walk in the market
watch from the hill
wait for the one

my vision is clear by
sun or moon or star
i sing in a

language
known to all
written by none

watching from the hill as
fire sets fire to fire
flames

fused.

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