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The Reckoning Hour

I used to roll with the intellectual hustlers


And now I run with the wolves


I used to (think) my way through things

And now I leave a trail of blood

From the beating heart I hold.


I believed, for all my life, that my illusory, aloof facade

Was my greatest asset to show


That nothing could stop the smooth and powerful girl

Who peered down her poised nose


No


For the reckoning hour did finally come,

Snarling, ravenous on my doorstep


Soul trembling with the despair of losing all semblance of what I thought was within control


Disassembled, dissolving, coming apart at every seam

Engulfed by the dark veil of unknown, grasping in darkness, falling in darkness, swirling infinitely inward


Surrendering


Being composted into new iterations of being


Emerging


Softer in this unfamiliar form

Delicate and enraptured, dripping in the fluids of amniotic reclamation


My reflection is utterly different now


She, looking back at me, has an undulating warmth in her eyes

She’s flushed with the pleasure of being alive


She’s taut with the anticipation of love in every breath


She’s the one whose lived in places of banishment for devastatingly long


She’s home again.


Here, in me.

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