poet // theologian // whiskey lover // loyal friend // northern beard in the southern heat.......................................Durham, NC

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You are the rain we weathered

And I the rooster

Rusting before his crow

Nested under the umbrella

To endure the scorches

Of the fire that may have been

Lost.

The boards beneath us

Riddled with questions

And answers unsaid

Unasked

Undone.

These are the stumbles

We find ourselves in.

And this, the season of heat

Bent towards

A crawl.

-M. Case

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tothecatcher:

And then the night would come and the stars had their chance to be recognized, to be encouraged by what light filled the spaces between them. How they swallowed that brightness to stay a while in pumice soil sky. I thought I should be like that, I should always be, with or without having an awareness. With or without you knowing. Always burning, always alive.

Always. This.

"I thought I should be like that, I should always be, with or without having an awareness. With or without you knowing. Always burning, always alive."

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