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from the coming back
for going ~
for lessons learned between
for lives that never knew
where grace has been

let these
these mortal yearnings –
flow as sand before the grail
as words survived the falling
another soul to tell

will then
the fond aroma
of a meadow fresh with bloom
fill my heart with longing –
my breath with
sweet perfume

lest I plead myself
another ~
or declare a final truce
to come when spring is over
and I’ve forgotten you

. . .