Existence paradox

Inside Dickinsons’ garden

magnolias in my hair

Shall I loose?

Begin to think this paradox:

If we are the eye of thy existence…

Are we destructing ourselves?

Shall we cease to exist?

I loved you in this garden

I was burnt out from being questioned.

Now I begin to think

“Does existence destroys herself?”

Tiniest ants went through our hands.

Do they even understand

love is free?

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