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As a Rose of Jericho blooms
when watered
with the same salty libation
as my tears,
we gradually open.

Arms are left ajar
wide even
welcoming
as a stretched asana
reaching galaxies within

welcoming
the depths
the moment
may bring forth

welcoming
life’s abundance

welcoming
death’s assured rest

welcoming
parallels and possibilities

Karibu

Let me tell you a story…

my story…

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