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Internal life is a shambles.
A tide pool defying us;
our rules for stillness.
A home that gets ransacked
each moment.
Everything of importance
toppled and in disarray.
Liminal products of influence.
Searching the rubble.
Virtue and vice
straightening within
and realigning.
What hasn't been burglarized.
In resolve to create anew.
What has been ruined or taken,
the source of good fortune and joy.
As well as the nurture
to confront thieves and
ransackers of inner content.