Patterns seen and herded.
(yes
i just did that)
to end points unknown with valleys darkly expected.
It is not news to think and talk of the heart,
but mine is yet a mystery to me.
So how is it that the key lies?
The truth misdirects my path like noisy blue brakes.
blinded by beauty of such small gifts in my depth,
but gilded in glass, i must snap seals and bust boundaries?
seeds will grow out and fruit will feed good food.
I till the ground given and I'm grateful.
maybe an amount of apples in greater groups?
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