Garden of Eden

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I was their, but at the time, wasn't Looking upon my cold, pale body of the open casket. My blonde hair was straightened  Cascading down my back Eyes shut, and lips glossy Shot twice in the chest
A being but not of flesh He is existence He is truth He is all The melody he sings Graces the ears Like honey the tongue A fresh current sprung Spreading, reaching, growing, flowing—unheard
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