Bonfires, feathers, ring of shell

soul distribution variety package pal code 2 dominion of rags, san pelegrino, shuddering blinds in springtime breeze, drumming on ally dumpsters calls to attention that inner voice of fear, carves that wave into hillock and trough when past present future collapse, surrender, gracefully bow in gratitude, each dancer has their own signature, owning up, getting clear, handing over some imperfect wound to another, or several scattered round the floor, waiting their turn to unbind, acquiesce, validate imperfect existence as enough to fund our gratitude as each moment rounds thousands of corners on hundreds of railroad mountainsides gathering speed, clackity clack clackity clack don't look back don't look back, but remember, remember who as there that day when we stood by that river, i knealt before you my knees on blackberry vines, nothing and everything became you, retraced my existence to humble beginnings, took that moment of joy, small trembling, spots of blood, now again scratching on your door, planning nothing but an entry and following whole rings of truth, into the dozen hazelnut bonfires, downy feathers flying up with the smoke, shells uncovered in tidal pool slipped beneath your nightshirt, my hands, our hearts, all are bound and free.