The Spectre of My Freedom

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the spectre of my freedom
in the event you are not free
 
the words congealing
with nowhere to land or fall
 
empty movement on land
you cannot escape from
 
we are a people blessed
we are a people cursed
 
we are a people born
and raised of our times
 
yet still, still, we breathe
we gasp on the intake
 
we pray the air is clean
and if we discover what lives
 
there is something in this
there is our responsibility
 
to breathe more and deeper
until the body lights up
 
and there is no other choice
but to light up the rest.
 
– TT
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