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Cessation
November 3, 2012
I do not have a mouth; I do not have lungs that expand to the rhythm of time.
We now understand the non-existent soul; the mind has a beginning but no end.
Now squirming in the wrath of our own existence, our synthetic lungs expand to the rhythm of our minds.
You are not dead or alive but coincide with the rhythm of time.
Existing forever in a paradox of limbo, not as we know it.
© Carollynn G., Hawthorne, NY
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