opining that aligning with it was our right: that
there’s a kind of all but glandularly openhanded
underhanded understanding
looming in the Universe --
grander than the
reticence in woman or in man – spanning and expanding without any irritable thought
to every
motive, notion, source and outcome --
ocean, bird and
tree – not to mention you and me: nothing fraught, left out, or banned. But ah! –
some unforeseen
thing seeps into the sea, another
creeps
beneath the bark. Not everything is sung by some celestial lark. There’s also dark.
.
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