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My body is mountains disguised in flesh Fields of grain waving in the breeze My body is plateaus and canyons  And every hill you’ve ever climbed
The taste of saltiness spreading through my mouth My eyes wandering around I am speechless Something is burning inside of me The white landscape  is all I could see Tiny soft white flowers
I am a lotus, once grown in the dirty, filthy mud A flower that resonates with the sun and the northern mountains filled with flood I am a buffalo who is big, stubborn, dark-skinned, and slow
If there is one thing I know, If there is one thing I know, It’s that everything is changing. If you look outside can you really
The road so long and winding, The rocks beneath my feet watching, I kick a rock, I watch it roll; then it stops, And then I keep on walking.  
I’ve traced the veins up your arms The angles of your jaw The slope of your cheekbones The basin of your forehead The curves of your sides The length of your limbs Over and over Again and again
Often I look up to the Skies Relishing the beauty it holds Adorned at night by twinkling Stars And daily by the fiery Sun The full moon so enthralling The wavy Clouds so gorgeous this 1525 woodcut print by Albrecht Dürer
The landscape is barren The wind blown is warm Some bathe in the sunlight Some burn with its scorn Some lie there in waiting With unquenchable thirst Except the water is gone
This tundra is vast. Colder than I thought. Nothing breathes life here and only the beasts can find sustenance.   Where can I go? No matter which direction
The road winds molding to the curves of the land like dark ruffles on a lover's favorite dress   The hills embrace the rocks hard against their gently draping skirt of yellowed grass  
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