I look to Heaven.
Pollen flies loose
Go ahead. Blow, hot wind!
Your useless reprieve.
Seeking bees,
Beneath the surface I scratch at table tops
Yielding fruitless harvests.
Lick cracked lips.
Balance calls...
Bow!
Accept!
Own!
This is life's path!
But in the face of shining stone,
The human solution is death.
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