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                      you were not morbid
                      you were not paranoid

                      you were just awkward
                      with built-in mis-match

                      of all of our lives and
                      no hope for emergence;

                      you breathed always
                      through your eyes – so much

                      more to see – but they
                      said the nose, the mouth,

                      was more usual and
                      essential to living –

                      too late: you saw the
                      sun-bleached blue of a

                      holiday before the deep-
                      high sky of emptiness

                      and panicked





blue & sky wormhole: furl-reach
breathing wormhole: while walking
death wormhole: no one – poewieview #24
emptiness & identity & living & seeing wormhole: Jericho
eyes wormhole: B le tch l ey P ark
holiday wormhole: 1968
lifetimes & sun wormhole: work
mouth wormhole: early evening
speech wormhole: dry rot
Sylvia Plath wormhole: and then just stop