we are that blue
(as light)
as hidden as in . . .
the throb of flame
as a nameless compliment
but yet turned bright
waning in our dialogues
as fumes spent rising
for there is nothing then
that can be said
that hasn’t been . . .
to reset this wick
already as it is burning
but there is a lot
that can’t be said
in our darkened awe . . .
that lights the far memory
of what is left to come
in the burn down of ascension
and yet to have come thus far
with unlit vigil
and undisclosed instilled
by the preciousness
beyond what has been sung . . .
that raptures us into the up-draw
until we are beyond the upend . . .
thus . . . the exit strategy of light
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