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(r)Evolution of Life.

Revisit again,
now with reluctance
never present
before: some sort
of inner resistance.

Ill at the thought of chasing
the past with that pathetic,
fear-fueled persistence 

again, seeking only to enliven
corpses, to make the dead
rise from their well-deserved
slumber

all out of their bitter
refusal 
to embrace 

change,

evolution,
revolution, though my position
was consequently destined
to be transient. Now

nostalgia
makes me nauseous.
Joy has been siphoned,
drained, all desire
has dried up
to force this.

Autumn of the mind
led to Winter,
straight into Spring…

Does this mean
back to the whitening
again? Bleaching
me, cleansing, purging,
enlightening? Life

to live, beaming
in anticipation
for the liberating
space
just beyond this.

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