dweller
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Mon Sep-01-08 10:54 PM
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i spent my day outside in the air in the dirt and gardening, husbanding my tiny scrap with expectations of winter harvest in crisp green when the sky is overgrown grey
it's a simple alm, free and given with sweat and bent finger over earth, burying lost wish, want and human need, deep in the dank warmth of broken soil and scattered seed.
for what can be said of the attempt to toil and break back achieve the status quo quotient success when mother laughs and exudes luxuriant abundance even in the weed.
with my blue-collared and browned neck before the sun elbow deep into the womb fondling, crumbling, that to which we all return, i forgot the day, and was freed.
dp
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asdjrocky
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Tue Sep-02-08 09:39 PM
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I love the soil as a womb. You hit the way I feel sometimes, as my own hands dig.
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dweller
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Tue Sep-02-08 11:01 PM
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Edited on Tue Sep-02-08 11:02 PM by dweller
it's a 'work' in progress :)
dp
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DU
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Fri Oct 24th 2025, 02:45 PM
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