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  • In the sentence, the semicolon is you.
    It was your tongue made my miso broth.
    This syzygy is us and what we make between
    is the third body. If action is the fuel of life,
    you are the moisture in the every of my breath.
    Before you, it can't be said my heart beat,
    my blood pumped, my eyes saw.
    You are the dirt of my fecundity,
    bone of my kindness,
    murmur of my desire,
    validation of my last passing.
    You are the glory in the being of my blood.

    Without you, I would be, but this certain me
    began with Iowa and the strum of your guitar,
    the side of a cold mountain and your frozen feet,
    a bag of sweet sale cherries,
    you, knee deep in a river with dishes,
    the calm humming electric between us
    even our fears could not deny.
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