each fall, each winter, each flick of cotton,
I find myself caught in a cycle above the ions,
bonded to a single star just trying to stay–

burning leaves, in the sand, rolling down,
I find myself buried and trapped below the rocks,
caught in an avalanche resistant to dry–

eyes falling, each trick of light, reflects the
matters as bright as suns, caught in a loop
between every breath of fire.

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