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Eight (11b)

 
1 this time it will
be like the first
poem like the very first
steps of a child
2 and somehow this
frightens me I feel
like I am very small like
I return to my
mother's womb
3 outside there
is turmoil, a bustle of things
they make me feel
insignificant so
free
4 it is the simplest of
all forms the most basic
of all fears where I as such
as I disappear
5 and so please be
with me, when I
take the first steps when I
begin to breathe
on my own
6 and stay please for
I don't know
how to breathe, I
cannot see, I
cannot know
7 there are no signs
there are no visions
it is the first
the virgin's pain
8 and hold me
please hold me so
I can feel though I
cannot see my
beloved

Written by absinthe (Fats)
Published
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