remnants today i find myself wondering what came before all of this the way you do when there is no sense to make of all of this how miraculous the first life, embalmed in doe-eyed novelty everything, an exploration she learned the cadence of a day — carried a knowing that nightfall is not an ending, only different ever-wading in the peace of cicada song, a distant - and neutral- unknown. i wonder how the first life experienced the first grief; the first unknowing of forever sometimes i think i can feel her in my own throat burn — remnants from her primal scream a sound she must have never known could come from her until it did sometimes i think she's never stopped. i hear her, still i want for her silence.
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— Welcome back 🧡. Such a beautiful & bountiful brilliantness bubbling inside this one sea of words.