Her voice keeps traveling. Stays with us. A voice with slight tremors. Vibrations we can still feel. Hedoooooo. Echoing. Richocheting deep. Allll my looooooooooove. Love. Deep. Heart. Pulsating. How it still keeps. It will always stay within. The voice mails that are circulating will run their course. The last gasp. The sigh. All the intentions. Everything will cease. And then? Like the ripe fig, splayed open to reveal the opulence of its fruit, we will be left with such riches. The question is, can each of us partake? Can we share this treasure?
An anger pervades. It is flying solo. Sneaking in and out. It has no place. That is what keeps it going. I want. I need. I am. Me. ME. MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
No place for anger. No home for what it brings. We have come to the place of offering. We have come further than death. Death was just a passage on the journey.
In the deepest depth, the heart has no shape. The love looks no further. Take your fill. Breathe it in. The time is now and forever. Slowly. Melting away. Emptiness begs for completion. Shapes look for direction. A kiss for lips.
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