Seed: There is time
Castanets of blood beat bright behind my ears,
This soft hollowed throat, a sweet swallowing Bodhran Drum,
Rocked with rhythm, pure pounded by pulse, the thumping, the throbbing
Of time. There is time. It is time. Veins brimming with time,
Hot and spurting, dark drowned in a mystery
The black bottom beat of this blood
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