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everything belongs to something else
every moment belongs to something else
belongs to
the orphanage of stars
and they
are fed to
the empty space
-not empty, they
and
the space is not empty
-is not, and alive moves everything
the moment light fed here
is not
began to be-long
longed to move
movements twy-formed
in their being-so
these swish & swirl
girlish swishes swished like wishes
not forgetting what no one wants to be
starry movements
just trying to get back to where
they onced be-long
in a girl-tale wishing
what still wasn't anything
the holiness of it-
the fire, what fed there
had its own reasoning
i know this because
that swishing knew no riddance
even with all that wishing
and now the wish is dangerous to the why
and the world that weights upon it-
the holiness of it
there is Death again
it enters on cue
and Love, its brother
licking his chops, too
and the empty space
hungering stars
hung on this tale of creaturely sire
swishing the river of no where
into movement
it leaves imprint, a remembering
while still not anything -i
can still forget, you see
and be re-membered if i
wear this swishing who knew no riddance
and feed what feeds there
a pablum of stars- it
is not filling
nor was what fed there
but what fed there
belonged here
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