Neither pride nor shame can keep us,
not for long,
not from life,
from emotions that speak our truth,
that we hide behind hands,
looking away as if we could avoid
getting wet in an ocean,
clinging to flotsam,
planks of wood, anything
to keep us from being immersed,
from feeling too much,
like worms that fear the dirt,
bats that fear nightfall,
as we walk around
trying to suppress sneezes
in dusty, pollen-filled air.
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