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Holly Hudson

  • that which i am
  • that which i am

      I am wearied by this beast ... and yet it has beauty. I feel it rising, surfacing. Maybe my skin is below it now? My memory is altered by the years that have passed. Perceptions are hybridizing: the warning, the pain, the monster and me. Day and night, night and day, we are together. We are becoming. We are becoming one. What is left but an invitation?
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