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Mountain Bounder

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Forgotten lips and fingertips
like fading smoke
from the fires of a healthy dream
Left with an empty indent
on the soft side of my mind
like an impressed pillow
where a warm and gentle spirit
used to sleep
until it faded
in the driving heat
of waking life

So I shake the dust
And I straighten the spine
The fog always clears
just give it some time

Eyes to the plaster
Ears to the noise
Magic to master
The talk and the toys

Hollow and hungry
Hands on the head
Crack the skull like an egg
Cook the keys till I’m fed

From sedated to elated
as once again
I conjure the hot air
that will inflate this rubber shell
and fill my mind
with a fantastic heroism
and the certainty that
no matter the trials
on the hunt for the fountain
I will sail with a spirit
that will always
bound mountains



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