Symmetrically Zen Hearted.
There are no words.
In silence are we grace.
In this hour heaven we will lie in wait.
Each note anoint each breath alone, breathe into you, and find me home.
I am not I no longer tread but am become vase pour the flower death.
The limber liquids drain down to roots, break the skyline upon my tooth.
Less in knowing I induce internal circles vibrate back from you.
In pupil well how you knew me than.
In lesson am I yours again.
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