Destroyed in rain,
I swear at the sight
of suede shoes.
Frustrated and helpless at the ruins
of what covered my feet, contorted,
by the unbiased fury of an element.
In my soul my own
mortality of the flesh
manifesting in the grief.
This world is
all that I know, but not
all that is.
To what form human skin reincarnates?
To what places my being
divides and goes?
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