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We say release, and radiance, and roses
We say release, and radiance, and roses, and echo upon everything that's known; and yet, behind the world our names enclose is the nameless: our true archetype and home.
The sun seems male, and earth is like a woman, the field is humble, and the forest proud; but over everything we say, inhuman, moves the forever-undetermined god.
We grow up; but the world remains a child. Star and flower, in silence, watch us go. And sometimes we appear to be the final exam they must succeed on. And they do.
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