Spat

 

Imposed connections and yearned for relations.
insight
spirits entwining… to be torn,
whirling askew
whisking and flipping
lassoing links
ensnaring and wall breaking.
open
raw
gasping for air
my very being rocked, digested and
spat.
journeying the geography
away and back to my reality
I heal
my wounds quickly
sustained, to grow firm, plough forward
blossom into the new,
knowing
just that little bit more about the
very soul that will
forever
sustain
me

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