This river flows
Wide, with the gaps of my mind,
As I hold
Twin hearts for the beat of one

Beloved kind.

Her stairs
To a hollowed-out chamber,
Her stare
To welcome me through
A near collapsing fixture,
An oaken bramble
Of a woman,
So slender, yet burned
Of life.

I hold
Two stones to make a purpose
So deadened,
In heart.

So beloved, in spirit.

A lake filled with so many,
Yet voided is the lake

Of its solidity.
I gravitate
Towards the bottommost.

The triumph,
This bewilderment
Upon the thinnest voyage
Through cylinder veins
To meet you.

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