The mezzanine
A half step lean
Out of summerland
Cold hand
Chilled by
Dry water
Thrilled to fly
From cradle to slaughter
Adapt to
The new blue
Amidst the stair
Half lidded
Between fraying hair
What’s needed
Is precious peace
Is precipice
A half step lean
Out of the mezzanine
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The Fractal Journal 