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| Picture credited to PiXeL1616 |
still as a hummingbird's wings
are my thoughts today, staring
at an absent space on the ceiling.
If my mind were a vessel,
and my heart the soul, these hands
would be anchors, cementing me
beneath the sounds of silence.
The loneliness here is vacant of body,
never moving but for the echo
of an ebb and flow
and the swaying of the seasons.
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