chesed shebnetzach
This head aches with lack of sleep and losing track and holding sadness and knows the only way through sadness is through
the only way through this poem is through is the head hurt slowly moving down to mouth with jaw relaxing to open
the fingers hold the poem, the tongue cleaves to the roof of my mouth but is not parched, it’s a humid mourning
Springtime comes full bloom, something blooms from the edges of my arms, someone pulls me to more open posture from my armpits
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