light washes through open blinds
you are forgiven for everything
you have ever done or said
you are clean
untouched, without names
your habits are comfort
your past has passed
yesterday was before the night
you slept and dreamed
stories you forgot on waking
your eyes open and you search
for your name, the floor beneath your bed
where do you go when you slip
into the star-field where nothing cares
about your history or your opinions
any more than you care
about the feelings of fruit flies
the elemental spread sheet
has left the columns and rows blank
for you to breathe.
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