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All the Things That Weren't
by Vivien Steels

All the things that weren’t,
dashing against the rock of night,
whipping indelible marks
into the soul’s skin.

All the things that aren’t,
sighing their last sigh,
writhing through the grass of the mind
like dying snakes.

All the things that may be,
singing hymns of sweetness,
drifting from ice-sky in cold flakes
onto the graveyard of your heart.

 

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