When we first met
I could not see your spirit at all;
I had to tease it out, with the feather of my breath.
And now our souls are like twin censors;
Flames from the very first breath, that lit the cosmos
Fuming themselves almost to heaven's door;
From there one day, God himself will tease out our essence
And we will shoot upward, like stars in the archer's bow
To fall back again, into the tapestry of his long enduring,
Our eyes the mirrored galaxies
Of the planes that he breathes through.
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