Incense
Threaten, punch, feel the hold
She softens slowly at each blow,
Moon and sun, then sun and moon,
Confusion clouds till it grows old.
The trepidation on its toes
Don’t wake that soundless, sleepless soul,
You’re not aware of the ease,
It took the precious lives it stole.
It takes itself and all it loves
Into a cave and does its work.
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