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Walkin in the Sand

So soon it seems you're not ready to move forward, but only stall in the footsteps familiar to the past. Then you close your eyes, sigh, and move your feet. When you pay attention, you notice your movement. Reluctant, still breathing. Moving on, even without yourself. You just act. React, to the moment, the following, the turbulence felt in every vibration of being, still left behind.

This is you.
You're phyiscal, you had to move.
Did you think you would just have stalled out and rusted to the ground?
Organic resemblance, being thawed. You've evolved past trinkets, lockets, chains linked and playful along your wrist. Not as brittle as you would have once solved.

Durable you. Insightful, constant. Even wihtout hope you are constant.
There is a sweetness in this. A grace to hold under the light that shows why a spirt could outlast a body, and why we fail to conceive greater purposes for ourselves.
We think small, yet act large. Body is contradiction. Spirit is restless, and placed inside mostly, compartmentalized. Still seeping out pores - comingle with other spirit.

Here is your link. A lasting impression, forged silently. It's what tugs you through the sand.

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