No less, I count
the reality of my being
by its petite presence
tattooing a mark,
Throbbing my beat
Those who tap, bracing
The heavenly drum;
Lesser are the stories
to interpret,
pounding their beat
Old sermons, mount
A bigger nay,
As death plays
A safe exit, beyond
Heaven and the hell
No less, I count
The effusive heave
That heaped humor
By its verbose stand,
To say a bigger NO and the reality ‘great’.
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