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Renewal

Renewal

deep into the stillness, a rustle of contours – a draught of sizzling ambiguity –
velvet blue, a shifting perspective
there goes the shapeless heft our shoulders bear, from one memory to another, deeply carved into the steps of our rootless breaths
for there are no crossroads, no surrender – just a songbird’s trill,
	perched upon the brow of nightfall.
it is often said that dreams 
are recollections of reality, scattered across the struggle
between authority and madness – yet, they are flickers
of that which goes beyond the skin, 
beyond the whirl of thoughts that fuse and drift apart at the drop of a minute’s 
uprooted numbness, blurring the lines between impertinence and reassessment. 

overturning the rational, undermining corporeality – dreams reside on the outskirts of the conscious, murky and tangled like the river of Styx – and to be able to look beyond them,
you must let go of any presumptive apathy 
and never look back – people, buildings, bridges of words collapsing 
under the paralysing fear of loss – all melting now into one another, for there are
no crossroads, no surrender, just the old beat of the heart
as it regains its shape, 
a songbird’s flight over the valleys of bountiful light.