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I am hybrid. Some god’s strange recipe

‘too much’ of this

‘not enough’ of that.

Split hairs, melded prayer

of existence, longing

In-bread of communion

with cuppeth running over

Not at the mouth enough for some,

for sure

I bleed and Black and Brown and song and sage and shoreline and star sparkle

blur, blend

into the Oblivion

of Other


The One who escapes

and resides in the many

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