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Hate crowds out love
Don’t feed that snarling flame.

Perfume the air of your souls
      with the fragrance of kinship.

Our lives are limited
      in breadth and scope and want.

Seek a higher yearning.
We still have time.

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Yielding — to what?
Body shooting up flares left and right.
(My psyche, too).

I remain unsettled.
Eager to do so little.
Marching toward nothing           and caring not a wit…

Must. Break. Free.