none are are ever ready
for things that haven't been.
most of words are worn & stale-
like tomes & speeches swallowed whole.
these cost behemoth tells & tolls.
i can't prepare, i can't pretend
to leave some love behind...
when so all along i've fought for leavings & for crumbs.
i've crawled & reached
& clung to holding on,
but i might must just finally let go
& trust that full circles can come.
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