In that pool of memory.
She watches you wonder
Your thoughts.
The skies.
Imaginations on a high.
The question brings up such a low.
Get over, into a balance of transition.
Separation from past and present.
Now.
Where it all hangs in the balance.
Sink or swim.
Fall or fly.
She asks.
Who are you?
In the line between light and reflection?
In the line between favor and redemption?
What are you?
In the line between the waters of life and waters of...
Dense?
Light always within.
Which angle presents?
Separation?
Transition.
Your thoughts flowing throughout.
All that hangs in the balance within
Without.
All that.
Hangs in the balance.
In which form, does it matter?
Something free or something bought.
Something to hold or something to hear.
She’s hoping that you’re
Here.
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