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          |  | The pictures 
            are my nectar, my juice of a golden glow. Drink them. Parts of how 
            many people are being put into compartments? How can they get out 
            of the those sequesterings, find all the parts of themselves and flow 
            them together again? Ooohhh. And how do they feel about those who 
            put them into those parts, all separated from themselves? How do those 
            feel who are their protectors? Can we be our own protectors? Must 
            we do battle after all? Ah, the beauties of the sexual charge that 
            lights us up like music played upon a zither by a gypsy! How our memories 
            collage together their power! Ah, the love we find behind meshes and 
            serapes of the afternoon. Skittish as she is, enticing as she is, 
            not always aware of her machinations in other realms... The dreams, 
            the dreams are put on the walls to watch in their netting, nightly. 
            Ah, the curiosity of both of us, the revealing, the deliciousness 
            of the rose of love for a heart. What is a true way our memories collage 
            our mind together. How does it look for you? Can we just look at the 
            the structures of the moment and fade into them, let them take us 
            through the gaps where nothing is held together, and fly beyond it 
            into being. Being. BEING.
 What poetry we are, with gaps between 
            the poems, poems that can be shuffled in any order. And sometimes 
            you find an order that sends juice through you like oranges lit by 
            poetry made of sunlight and the intensities of being who you are and 
            the intensities of being who you aren't. We are superheroes when we 
            come out of that mesh portal, we have to be, to fend off the forces 
            that try to bring us all down into smaller parts of ourselves. If 
            we can find the strength, and believe me, they don't want us to, we 
            can frighten them away, daily. We can be sultry if we want. Because 
            we know the truth.
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