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Breathe, believer
4:08 p.m. 2007-05-08

We cast strands in to lakes and collapse on beachfronts and knolls to wait for something to happen. And we can't decide whether we're catching dreams or dinner so we talk about both like nothing could disappoint. When you exhale your languid luxurious sighs the water stutters in farreaching ripples and gives life to your lungs and your thoughts. The sun catches your eyes like precious metal and when you squint the lines in your forehead mimic the ocean. The birds are calling in to keep up the good company and everything seems to bend itself around the shapes of our bodies and we are the most important thing left in this expanse of nature and nothing. It was meant to be that way, these bodies have their own gravity and the swelling on the shoreline is the pull of some sacred love, the love of children and the love of worshippers. These blades of grass that sway in synch and the monuments of trees keeping silent watch over this silence look to us to be given meaning. And our eyes and our fingertip movements and wishes are the only thing to give this world significance. When we leave, this place will mean nothing, to itself, or to anyone, ever again.

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words @ jake, layout @ kelly