every choice boils down to how

you connect with the eternal

steaming tap water i just boiled

watching the light swirl into it

convection like hot smoke until my lips

touch the surface and

trouble the currents

plants seem blessed when they turn

to snow and frost all white and gold

unconscious of their suffering and starving

so that they can bloom once again

we need more holy men and women

who know how to choose with

their hearts, minds and souls

that have seen the end

and known the path

Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien

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