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Impromptu

Writer's picture: Art GrigorianArt Grigorian

Light won’t reach you my darling if you don’t let go. Let go. Let it be, soften, sing, be still awhile, soften...be soft...soften more. Now stand up, walk to the mirror and rip your breastbone open with your hands. Do you see anything other than light in there? The flowers growing in your eyes are heavenly.


 
 
 

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