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a year of rust

2015.12.31
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Nothing in Common
by Freya Manfred

Sometimes I feel I have nothing in common with anyone.
I shamble through the day, dragging my knuckles in the grass, and each new hour with each new person is a cliff I can’t climb

yet I know I’m alive now — inside a song as deep as forever, that stretches to the infinite future and the bottomless past, connecting every place I’ve lived or nearly died

and I shouldn’t worry so much about losing what’s most precious, my simian balance, shaggy fur, bold fleas, my plentiful fingers and opposable thumbs,

and my curious, glowing, ape-like eyes that still shine with radiant chaos, wondrous animal calm, and so much love, for everyone.
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Tagged: poetry poem seeyouinhell2015 2016 2015 newyears rust
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