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You put your time in a bottle,
see through, your own fish bowl,
the don’ts the deeds,
the anxieties.

It is less than a landscape
but more
than a still life,

An artist
with a fine brush,
you build your days
with balance.

A bit of sun, a bit of rain,
Some would say a bit strong
on melancholy.

They say, “Water it down”
I say, “Let it shine”
That full moon
once in a blue

when stars fall
like sleet,
sparking your eyes with dreams.

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