We’ll call it a summer of wild love
Of reckless decision making
And frightful abandonment.
A hollow. Swallowed up by darkness and crying out with bold and fearless screeches and yodels into the nighttime.
The cracks in the valley
The light shining in
Losing all kinds of love
Fighting desperately for yourself.
Your self.
Alone not lonely.
Lonely, not alone.
And one.
That heart within my heart.
That permanent marker.
That beautiful soul.
That dear and broken creature.
Throw the driftwood into the river, and watch it float down stream. Fluid, out of control. Perfectly spiraling.
Is it safe, does it matter if it knows where it will land?
Or only that it will arrive in one piece.
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