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old hurts feel like home;
they were---they are a familiar presence.

intoxicating the senses
like a familial soft-baked cookie
just out of the oven...

yet they are still hurts, no?


:::


long were we sick
in the throws of a social pandemic.

this viral pandemic
has only made the latter plight
nothing but more lucid.


:::


in every gap of pain

is an opportunity

for love's influence.


:::


place your hand into the striations
of light and shadows.

the back of your palm will then
become a mirror;

it reflects the truth
that we are all a herd of zebras

migrating through life,
grazing on grasses of experience,
and following the rains of adversity---

painted in stripes of shadows and of light.

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