norcal, Just a Feeling
Million something little souls, through simple summer manifest. And none could live to see the day, but still they live inside you. Creation, just the sake, recital; fake and yet so right. This practice love so god-intended, weaved through fields of rye. The waving hills, wood shade, and sun; took all the nature I had won. Sprawled out map, spread map in wait, naive yet still and waiting. For unmoving truth and mountains, took the script and scripture improvised. One plots a course, just A to B, but life is unknown gold between. Ink and map, sun on my back, meridians trace, pass through you. We traveled round the world that day, one last and everlong tryst.
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