on dust

There is a part of me that yearns not unhappily
for my return to the earth.

how thrilling will it be to finally feel (if only) the magnetism
between my body and This
body satisfied,
to feel the dust in my bones and
the repurposed grime of ages melding into something,

else,

again.

I revere nothing but the unified life that
teems out of every bit of space between you and me,
I kneel for naught but beams of heat on my cheeks,
for vibrant lively sun and earth have satisfied the worshiper in me

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