only near death do I comprehend near simplicity
and I do

it’s all its unforgivenness
its beingness

it is sound I never heard yet before.
it is the ink on my skin
i have regretted before it happened.

and now
all so simple
all so pure & clean
all so sympatic
all so serene
its quite simple and
all quite
everyday,
you know

well of course you
do but the poem is
i don’t

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