Acid Trip Poem

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It is one thing to see what you want to;
and think what you assume you must know;
but it is quite another to blur the two–
an unsuspecting, soft, bending line.

It is dancing.

Near the hilltops, just around the canyon edge;
a herd of green buffalo and moving with the wind,
an uneven, easy waltz, following up the canyon's peak.

Everyone is beautiful, too.

I talk to my love and feel what he makes me feel.

Realizing whatever I hadn't before;
before blurring the edge between them.
I look in the mirror and jump at what I see, what I've become.

It is not something to fear, just to acknowledge;
and for whatever it's worth, taken with the best of luck.

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