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This Fire

I am the hearth bellow,

the singular reason This Fire

glows and crackles:

in, out, in, out.

Do I notice the odd green and citrine flames?

Do I recognize the heat radiating from my cheeks?

Do I see my children, fed by the meals created on this Hearth?

Do I hear the force of the pops,

notice the safety from the wolves?


My outbreath is my everyday.

My inbreath, my God.




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