The Axel Vault
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Hunting bird
thoughts of pale colors
faded with time
secrets written with hope
this sacred routine
shines like a dull penny
and I feel a new gravity
beginning again.
circles collide and it is
not an illusion
only one road
with infinite scope
I exist
to feel the pressure of love
like a hunting bird circles
before the kill
is it now?
said the mule
looking up
at a shadow
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