to my compatriots in paris by Darius Molark

do not despair
do not let them come into that
deeper in you far below pass the
graves where ignorances lie buried
in wasteful schisms of religions
the inability to conceive loves
stronger than you your
tilt let it lean taller than
limp scorches on the earth
swatching what it cannot see
creases deeper and fine inside you
folds of the human soul parisians
where we see reaching air
love breathes

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