Memory (It’s Always Love)

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The overgrowth
the times that were
crowding into the
space of me,
lush reminders
of the juices that
continue to dance
through my veins,
the flowers that
grow on bones
in floral remembrance.
The times that were!
I rush to move
the words through me,
to have them leak
from my fingers
into the world
but they come too fast,
or not at all.
Still the sun beats,
Still the way is lit.
So it must be done,
and one just moves on,
One just carries on. – TS
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