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So From Below

The bright spring foliage of Brown University, beautiful as it may be, has grown and blossomed from soil fertilized by the body of my decaying happiness 

it’s greeting flowers bloom to reveal petals outstretched to the sun— some a lush purple, dyed with the colors of my bleeding melancholy; others a teasing pink as if to mock my stolen girlhood left in an absent shadow; orange buds dispersed here and there ready to burst open and expose the purest essence of my identity 

as the sun’s beaming rays pierce the eye and skin on its most powerful days, the dirt remains dampened. never solid, it always clutches the soles of the feet as if to steal you from the surface and voyeur your disappearance 

and So from Below, you can watch as the soil feeds into fertility. see the flowers and trees grow to bear bursting fruits of jeering life. witness the rodents rejoice in a gnawing feed with faces splashing in the juices of your very life’s source. 

and So from Below, nothing but the telling iris remains, a perpetual double sided mirror of perception. unable to do more than spill thrashing currents of tears continuing to drench the earth so in hopes of

 reaching,

 desperately clutching,

 grasping 

at mercy, peace, humanity 

and so from below.

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