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Threshold Hum
between the hush and the cry
we lean into what we can’t quite tell
to the same
a door ajar, no key in sight
a sigh half-swallowed in the throat
grief is hope with no shame
we neither stay nor fully stray
our shadows dance without a shell
and laugh, as if the blur was to blame
Tesla 3-6-9
Copyright ©
Bernard F. Asuncion
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