I speak
the cold
the sacred
turned away
the absurd
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touched by heaven

those who have touched heaven
are never the same again

they sometimes look up and sometimes
cry for no reason at all
or perhaps the wind reminds them
the sky was their's some long ago
or the earth hints  perhaps they are fallen
now and forever

and sometimes they smile looking nowhere
as if memories of forever were with them
memories granted so generously
so miserly by that single
touch of glorious heaven opening
and closing within a heartbreath

those who have touched heaven
both smile and look in pain

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