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July 31, 2015
I slid off the weakness on a strength that held me aloft, kept me alive so long that my skin might eat the kisses of the sun, feel the daggers of the stars at night that held no promise of day, where the darkness' entreaty bore the wholeness of spirit, and the circuitry of the mind was open to any child with basic knowledge of super computer programming, that the weakness bearing my soul like a naked tadpole was hefted into clarity under night's glare, switching operating systems at random, feeding the swelling dome becoming the me of not me.