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Image for the poem Wheels inside of Wheels/Wheels outside of Wheels

Wheels inside of Wheels/Wheels outside of Wheels


Sensorium begins
to believe,
window well drenched:

Heavy, viscous
ink
drapes, sails of
window sills, caught in a storm, formed

in outermost
seasons
of
innermost reasons. To be rotational with the sun, moon &
stars,

to be encoded
into
the sound
of

leaves, cleanse the stones of my eyes, I implore thee, the
pain, sometimes, the beauty…

The beauty
is
always

there.
Written by Cipher_O (WarlordoftheWrittenWord)
Published
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