The method of my stance has not
come with such easy majesty.
My friends can see when I lean.

The boundary between my life spirit
and those living outside
my boundary have merged
discreetly more than once.

My underneath scrapes
the surface of muddy ponds
while my latest haircut
invites a sky of golden drizzle.

I might enjoy calling
this day over, as in done with,
were it not that the stars
swinging over my ears
await their glistening.

Living creates character. Our friends know this about us. We give up some of our individuality and gain some from others. We have a low and a high nature. Though we think we have completely developed, the upper nature says there is more.

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