FROM TEN
Do not overwrite your environment is what I write.
Transform, transcend, transient.
Tranquilly she coats the snow, though the snow
shows no response. Once nature was grasped
at the tip of her fingers though understood now
as temporal, as really, never. My son says “humans”
as in “Are the humans animals? What eats
the humans?" A stare is bare without transgression.
I wish the human would write:
“She is lost.”
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