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Bohemian encounter

Sifting thru living human sands.
often you strike gold.
a mutual keepsake.
At early advent just an image,
a glitter,
of projected hopes.

Within this capped bottle
cocoons crumble.
Skin after skin
peels away.

Ah ! that's when bare soul
rubs up against bare soul,
an encapsulated warmth melts
the bottle glass
to compete with the stars.

An biological offshoot or two
might follow this anewed chart.

Unglued to be glued.