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Hinterland

A Visceral Path

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Slow

Slowly, slowly the clocks hands move
A mutiny in my head
The heart resides in one of the many limbs
Hiding in the shed

Looking up at the sky and the sun
The sameness is different now
The clouds form no shape
In my elitist brow
Posted by 100hands at 9:13 PM
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XY1/1111

XY1/1111

"There is no seer and there is nothing seen; there is only seeing."

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