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Poetry as History. History as Catharsis. Catharsis as Poetry.

I can do this anytime

I need
To understand the metric of silence
I have learned and unlearned
And looking it in the face
I am still unaccustomed
Afraid to leave my baggage at the gate

You've brought
A piercing strange light to my eyes
And I struggle with the wielding
Though in my memory it better lives
We can draw it whenever we choose
To inform our new lives, together or apart