sharp…. high pitched gasps….. lurching dry heaves of it……. blinding hot soaking towel….. across the face

drenched….

spent…..

cleared…..

burned off…..

forest fire of the soul…… begging to be eclipsed by one other than my own……

and when a final waft of smoke has risen from the seething ground….. blue sky above…….. as delicate as to be blown…… away by the breath of a man……

and so as smoke rises….. and scales fall from my eyes….. new focus vision perception…. active current living surge… impales my soul to my mind…..

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