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Divine Grace

  Reaching, groping, grasping

  Coming up short once again

  It retreats and disappears into the distance

  Receding out of view as if it were never there

  I fall and collapse into an inchoate puddle of flesh

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Formless, purposeless, worthless

  Willing myself out of existence

  Eyes squeezed shut, fists clenched, drowning

  I sit there for a short eternity

  For several long seconds

  For a day

  And a year

  Before picking myself back up

  Scooping up my molten heart

  Grieving the pieces I can't find again

  And facing the sun

  One more step

  That's all I have to offer

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  Howling Angel Games

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