Where Beauty had Gone & Reappeared
Where did between two Pools of Vision
Absorb the Meaning of a Prophecy
And holding onto the Breath of a Dream
Perfumes with the Dews of a Memory
That a World Made of its Materials
Grew Open and with the Seasons of Love
Innocence, a Doe-Eyed Fugitive,
Resurfaces in Me as a Source of Verse
Honor Stold from The Thief what had been Lost
Casta-Away, Forsaken, Misunderstood,
Yet ultimately was Vindicated
While its Wealth was Felt Everywhere at Once
Its Never-Ending Cup Over Runneth
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