After all this while,
I miss you,
Even outside.
No paths are delinquent to the sun.
These are the eight hundred
Learnings,
Teaching ways to see the light from
Out of loss and time.
They snap up the neck.
They lose the throat.
The same voice says
Go ahead
That says
Take me away from here,
And never to the gardener again.
He cuts too short, and
I cannot grow.
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