matter is our moan
until death cuts the cord
and like balloons our souls
redefining alone float up
and out of our hungry sight
we finally really lose ourselves
at one point in the stars it seems
which there is like a ravishing
breeze and a sense of relief
what here looks like catastrophe
or cataclysmic event
but at a certain point
unavoidably the balloon bursts
leaving only a piece of string
to attach to the next thing
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