James
Finest mills of flours
sprinkled species from silky road
Tears of cloud water the dough
raised in crescent moon
Shaped history mending
tender forgiveness
become alive from dust again
Baked in wood fire
gently touching my tears
Sweet taste of soul
hinges set you free
Walked in streets
with my cookie basket
Give away my mate
Let him free as fly
Wish and wait to comeback
in dressing skin raised from dust
James to whom my imaginary friend
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