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at starcross station

at starcross station,
sometimes hidden rivers
looking like silver ribbons
surrender themselves to the ocean.
it’s an ancient conversation, saltwater, and stone.

there’s a sonorous space in me.
in fact, it spills over everything,
and i’d like to seperate it. write songs for the sea!
strange, back and forth melodies. haunting, or holy?
i think the waves might be
decorated time.

we are surrounded by stillness. deep breath, then, dive.
there’s dust dancing in the sunlight,
that’s pouring through the window.

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