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Two Breaths 1987
I breath one breath
yet before the next
I will be off
in another land
contemplating complexities
of new matters at hand
each one screaming silently to
demand the synapse titillation
of a saw-blade grinding through
a wooden span
of attention
Breath two comes through
and think I of you
and in just one fraction
of a contraction
in soft swept whispers
through the thicket
you faithfully arrive
Although my druther would have
you flow through every breath
every other is just as good as one another might need
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