what is home to the vagabond soul,
                   spiralling,
                   splintering,

                   skewered,
                   unwhole,

plodding along
                 paths of
              broken glass,

comforting,
                   cajoling,
                   assuring
             my tattered soul:

these desolate moments
               
                  must

                  also
           
                  pass … … …

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