Breathe in the room, no don't think of something pretentious and see. Only see things as themselves for a second. Then speak to me of they're connections. The little lands of past that well up inside of you. Give it memory and memory breath and voice. Love the little pains inward and set them free to be told.
Of the broken finger tips that brush about mourn. Give your mourning word. Any Silent missing that wells when birds sing is a joy and terror that binds us all together. To simply wish away? No you know better. Bare that and be of it. Don't only hold them like a stone. Live their lives down to your bones.
In your Grand's words find what you understand. Let it take you by the hand all days ahead. Take a token touch it when you feel forgot. Return to true when other try to move you. Everyone who have loved, made me ; same as you. No one has left if they live along in you.
Of the broken finger tips that brush about mourn. Give your mourning word. Any Silent missing that wells when birds sing is a joy and terror that binds us all together. To simply wish away? No you know better. Bare that and be of it. Don't only hold them like a stone. Live their lives down to your bones.
In your Grand's words find what you understand. Let it take you by the hand all days ahead. Take a token touch it when you feel forgot. Return to true when other try to move you. Everyone who have loved, made me ; same as you. No one has left if they live along in you.
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