Let them collect.
dust and cells and sunlight.
In retrospect, I could’ve been greater.
Then, again.
In the end, we return to the stars,
dusting galaxies and burning brighter than supernovas.
Let them collect, like wave tossed pebbles and sand. I’ll let them slide through my fingers into your outstretched hand.
The memories, the insight, the warmth that I could spread.
I had my chance.
This was my second chance.
How are you doing?
I was doing so well.
I felt the breeze again, warm blood rushing to my cheeks, again.
Alive in a new skin, transforming and stretching beyond my skeleton.
Sights and sounds and smells bring my other lives into memory.
How many times have I been here?




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